Brothers - Tess Oliver

BROTHERS

TESS OLIVER

Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Sneak Peek at Hard Edge Chapter 1 Chapter 2 About the Author

Copyright © 2017 by Tess Oliver Cover Image: Lane Dorsey Cover Models: Josh Mario John & Taylor David This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

1 JOELLE

he hum of the guitar and the song in my head were my escape, two to three T minutes of time when I could pretend I was someone else, a singer on a stage, a

voice in a choir. For a spring day, it was bitterly cold. The bright blue sky had fooled me into leaving our squalid little house without my sweatshirt. And as my tiny sidewalk audience peeled away, some leaving dollar bills in my guitar case, others just leaving with a polite nod, my human shield against the brisk air fell away too. The chilled breeze felt brittle against my skin as I quickly shoved the bulk of the money in the pocket of my shorts. I saved a few extra in my fist to hide in the secret pouch inside the case. Those extras would go into my secret stash, the stash that would eventually buy my freedom. All I needed was enough to rent a room for a month while I looked for a job, a room far away from here and far away from Bobby. I couldn't remember the day it happened, the day I became his possession rather than his significant other. Just like I couldn't remember the day when he had crossed that line from being a pleasant, almost loving human to being a hateful monster. It's entirely possible I'd just been blinded by his good looks and swagger and that the beast had been lurking there all along, just waiting to rear its ugliness. Now when I looked at Bobby, I couldn't imagine how I'd ever thought him handsome. He was far too mean to be anything but hideous. I stooped down to pack away my guitar, the one possession of mine that Bobby hadn't hauled off to the pawn shop to pay his bookie or his dealer. I stuffed my pick and the spare dollars into the velvet pouch on the side of the case. Behind me, tires crunched the asphalt. A loud blaring horn followed, startling me forward onto my knees. "Joelle, let's go. I don't have all fucking day." Even though I was just four feet from his jeep, he laid on the horn again. The young couple who had stopped to listen to my song looked back toward the clamor before disappearing into the coffee shop. Shep, the hyper, bug-eyed man who ran the corner market, popped his head out the door to see what the noise was about. He blanched and tucked his head back in the second he saw Bobby's black jeep. Most of the locals had the same reaction whenever Bobby or one of his equally

hated friends showed their faces in town. I pushed to my feet, picked up my guitar case and willed myself to turn around. Bobby had his black cap pulled low over his head and his lips were pulled into a thin line under his moustache. The phrase 'oh, how the mighty have fallen' splashed through my mind. It had been one of many phrases my foster mom, Lolly, used to chant with her sing-song Jamaican accent, and it was extra fitting for the man in the jeep. I'd considered myself the luckiest girl at Branson High when I'd attracted the eye of Robert Dell, star athlete and most popular senior. I was only a sophomore, which made it an even bigger deal. My friends were nearly sick with envy when I was invited to sit at his lunch table, with all the senior big shots. I thought I'd won the golden ticket that year. But when Bobby's football career didn't pan out due to a bad knee injury and the glory days of high school had to be left behind for the harsh reality of adult life, popular, shiny Bobby Dell slowly morphed into the scowling, angry asshole sitting behind the jeep steering wheel. I supposed that was the reason I couldn't pinpoint a day when he'd crossed that line. It had been a slow transformation, one that had caught me off guard. Slow enough to allow myself a few delusional moments of thinking the charming, pleasant Bobby would return some day. But I knew now he was gone for good, and even if the high school hero miraculously appeared again, it was too late. Nothing could redeem him now. Bobby's black hat poked out the window as he leaned through it. He slapped the roof of the jeep. "Move it, slowpoke." I shuffled toward the jeep and put my guitar in the backseat. As I climbed into the front seat, his big hand shot out. With a huff of frustration, I stretched up and pulled the money from my pocket and then slapped it on his palm. He quickly counted it before folding the stack and putting it in his own pocket. "Forty fucking dollars? You must have been singing off key today." His laugh was like nails on a chalkboard to my ears. I ignored him, something I was getting good at, and reached into my pocket for a rubber band. I swept up my dark brown hair into a ponytail and pulled it through the band. I knew Bobby was watching me, but I stared straight ahead and waited for him to put the jeep in gear. "What the fuck is this?" His rough fingers touched my neck. I reacted as if he'd jabbed me with a hot poker. The jeep shifted from side to side as he twisted his massive torso and reached across the seats. He grabbed roughly hold of my arms and wrenched my body toward him before pushing me so that my back smacked the door handle. My head bounced off the glass. "What are you doing?" I cried the second I caught my breath. His angry blue eyes skewered me. "Who the hell gave you that hickey? I need his name so I can put my fist through his face." I grabbed at his fingers, but he was too strong. Terror flashed through me as I realized how easily he could kill me with just his bare hands. Then fear turned to

rage. "It was you, asshole. You were so fucking drunk that you don't even remember." A sob burst from my mouth. "And in case you were wondering, I hated every fucking minute of it." My words stunned him at first, and I was sure he didn't believe me. But it was the truth. My stomach turned sour just thinking about his hands and mouth on me. He clenched his jaw tightly, and his blue eyes felt like pointed daggers on my face. The tight anger in his face slipped away. It seemed his disgusting attack on me the night before was coming back to him. I was almost certain I caught a glimmer of an apology in his face as he released me. I rubbed his fingerprints from my arms as I shifted back against the seat. I blinked several times to keep the tears from falling. He threw the jeep into gear and pulled out onto the road. "I need to go by Tim's house, then I'll take you home." He spoke casually as if he hadn't just grabbed and thrown me against the car door or accused me of sleeping around. His rock-filled head no longer allowed him to see when he was wrong, or for that matter, horrid. "Just drop me off first. I don't want to sit in the jeep for an hour while you two get high." "Not taking you home first. Just come inside to hang out with us. I haven't seen you all morning." He reached over and tried to take hold of my hand. I quickly pulled it out of his reach. We turned the corner just as the safety rails on the train tracks started blinking. The woman in front of us slowed as the arms came down. Bobby smacked his horn. "Come on, lady. We could have both made it." I could see the woman's angry scowl in her rearview mirror as she looked up to see who was rudely honking. Her eyes pulled quickly away as she discretely reached over to lock her car door. Bobby had no choice but to stop. It was noon, which meant it was the northbound freight train. Bobby stretched up out of his open window to get a look at the train. It was still a half mile away. The jeep wobbled as he sat back inside. "Fuck. At least three engines so it's a long one." He raised his middle finger for the woman in front of him to see. "Yeah you, bitch. I should just nudge that stupid little car of yours right onto the tracks." He grunted. "Looks like we'll be here awhile. You were gone when I woke this morning, and my dick has been hard since then." He reached over and grabbed my hand before I had a chance to move it. His fingers tightened around my wrist as he unzipped his pants with his free hand. "Why don't you blow me while we're waiting." With some effort, I pulled my arm free. "You've got to be fucking kidding." "I'm not kidding." He reached in and pulled his erection free. "Come on, baby. That train'll take forever." "Not a chance in hell." I reached for the door handle. A scream shot from my mouth as he took hold of my ponytail and yanked it. I fell backward. My shoulder landed hard on the stick shift.

"You fucker!" Adrenaline helped me sit up. I held my breath against the pain and lunged for the door handle. I jumped free of the jeep. "Where you gonna go, Joelle? Just get back in. Get in the fucking jeep." His booming voice bellowed behind me like angry thunder but my feet kept going. I ducked beneath the candy cane striped safety rail and stopped just inches from the track. I closed my eyes to feel the vibrations under my feet. More than once I'd stood in front of the rails, straddling my bicycle, absorbing the feel and smell of the train as it swept past. On my darkest days, days where it seemed shadows always outmaneuvered daylight, I tried to imagine what it would feel like to step in front of the train. It had to be a quick, almost painless death. Instant. One bone crushing blow and it would all be over. I looked back. As if she'd just read my macabre thoughts, the woman in the first car watched me with round, terror-filled eyes. The train was torpedoing in my direction. The narrow engineer's window looked like a single glass eye above an oversized nose as the train barreled toward me. "Damn it, Joelle, get back in the jeep." I looked back. Bobby was lumbering toward me with nostrils wide enough to suck in a baseball. The vibrations beneath my feet grew stronger. My heart beat so hard, I could hear it over the roar of the train. The train was close enough for me to see the blue hat on the engineer's head. His eyes mirrored the same look of horror as the woman in the car. Birds perching on the electrical lines fluttered off as the powerful engine rocked the ground and split the surrounding air. As Bobby ducked his massive frame beneath the safety rails, I whispered to myself, "enough, Joelle, enough". My feet leapt forward, and I jumped across the tracks. My ponytail swept sideways and grit from the track pelted my bare legs as the train whirred past behind me. I took several clumsy steps forward, pushed by the violent rush of air. I swung back around. Bobby was gone, stuck on the other side of the train. I looked down toward the tail end of the freight cars. I had about five minutes before the caboose waddled past and the moving fortress of iron and steel keeping me safe from Bobby disappeared. I could run, but I had no place to hide. Then, in the long parade of olive green, gray and red freight cars, I spotted a boxcar with a wide open door. As frantic thoughts crisscrossed my brain, Lolly's clear words came through the chaos. She used to chant them whenever I won a race at a track meet. "My precious Joelle, my little Joey, you sing like an angel, but you run like the devil is chasing ya." I started walking along with the train and then picked up to a jog, continuously glancing back to look for my magic carpet, the empty boxcar. The jog turned to a full out run. As my shoes pounded the hard ground, the tender spot on my shoulder throbbed, reminding me of the reason I was chasing a train. I looked over just as the open door reached me. I jumped up, grabbed hold of the edge and landed, belly first, on that same edge of the car. The pain in my gut was sharp but disappeared quickly as I swung my legs up and into the boxcar.

I sat on my knees and looked around at my surroundings. It wasn't exactly a richly woven carpet with gold tassels like the one in the Disney movie but it would do. The walls smelled damp and sour as if they'd been soaked in a vinegar brine, and they were covered with graffiti, messages and mementos from people who had traveled before me. Aside from a small pile of wadded up newspaper, two broken pallets and an empty coffee cup rolling from side to side, the boxcar was empty. The wood planks lining the floor had enough space between them that cool, diesel scented air floated up between the cracks. I could see the tracks race by in a continuous blur. It took some skill and concentration to get to my feet, especially as the train began to accelerate in speed as it left the city behind. I walked to the opening and held tightly to the edge of the door. The air cooled my face as I leaned my head out and looked back toward town. Bobby had stomped across the tracks, and his thick neck twisted above his shirt collar as he looked frantically around for me. I pulled my eyes away and a laugh shot from my mouth at the image of the jerk marching through town searching for me. I walked to the back wall of the car, sat down on the splintery floorboards and wrapped my arms around my knees. The train chugged along. From the slight lilt of the boxcar, I could tell we were heading north toward the mountain pass. The landscape grew less civilized. The right corners of buildings and signs were slowly replaced by long stretches of tall grasses and fields. I had no idea where I was going or what I would do once I got there. I had nothing. No money. No job. Nobody. Not even my guitar. But none of that mattered. I was free.

2 ZACH

he bike tire wedged into the dirt rut left behind by the last rainstorm. I T yanked the handlebars to free it. My body absorbed every jarring hit along the

steep, narrow trail. Racing a mountain bike downhill had a lot to do with gravity, but it was that same invisible force that I had to fight against as my tires flew over the impossibly rough surface of the mountain trail. The less often rubber made contact with solid ground, the better. The fat blue spruce loomed ahead as I turned along the last curve toward the finish. The tree stood guard over the place we'd named Deadman's Gulch, a deep crevice worn in the earth by a longstanding creek, an icy stream of water that never seemed to dry up. Even in the hottest summer, a trickle of water still curled and twisted around the maze of rocks that filled the gulley. Jesse, Sundance and I had given the fissure its daunting nickname. You either jumped Deadman's Gulch successfully, or you said your prayers on the way down. Our helmets, gear and, for that matter, our bones, were no match for the carpet of sharp, unforgiving rocks lining the gulch. Since the crevice crossed the best part of the bike trail, there was no way to avoid it. Not that we would have. The gulch added that threat of danger that made racing downhill such a rush. The creek in the gulch disappeared below me as my front tire lifted off the ground. My bike arced through the air, and I landed on the opposite side with my back tire just inches from the edge. I hunkered over the handlebars and peddled as if a rabid grizzly was on my tail. Coming in second meant me having to buy beer for the next week. Not to mention that it meant having to listen to Jesse gloat about the win. The damp earth breathed out the scent of moss and loamy decay as my tires crushed the forest debris. I was close. Weak sunlight glinted off the top of the truck parked below. I turned my head but couldn't see Jesse. It looked as if I was going to beat my brother down the hill this time. Seconds later, a flash of blue pulled my focus away from the dirt path in front of me. Jesse flew past me on the rocky path running parallel with the dirt trail. When it came to having a good time, my brother never thought twice about risking his neck, especially when it meant beating me in a race.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second when I saw his bike head between two narrowly spaced trees. His shoulders tilted dramatically as he quickly turned the handlebars to avoid getting stuck. His bike shot forward, and he flew back onto the dirt track in front of me. My tires stayed just inches from his until he launched off the ramp we'd built into the track. His back tire fishtailed to the side as my front tire left the ground. Those jumps, those moments suspended in air, were a big part of the high. They were also the only seconds during a downhill race when your body wasn't getting hammered by the rough terrain. I caught up to Jesse as he headed to the bottom. I took the opportunity to tap his back tire with my front tire. He wobbled out of control for a second before regaining his balance. It took a lot to throw Jesse off his game. And I wasn't just talking about downhill racing. Jesse raised his gloved fist in the air as he crossed the rut we'd dug as a finish line. He yanked on his brakes, and his back tire drifted around in a circle. He held up a finger to show me he was number one. I returned the gesture with a finger of my own. We caught our breath as we pulled off our helmets and gloves. Sundance hopped off the tailgate of the truck. He held his hands up in question. "Zach, what the hell happened? Thought you were going to smoke this asshole." "Stupidly, I hesitated when I thought this fool was going to crown himself on a tree." I walked to the truck and pulled the water jug out of the bed. Icy water dribbled back along my face as I lifted it to my mouth for a drink. "Sorry man, saw the opportunity and took it." Jesse dropped his helmet and gloves in the duffle bag. "Besides, I had plenty of room between those trees." I lowered the jug of water and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "You and I have a different definition of 'plenty of room'. But whatever. We need to get back to the shop. We've both got knives to finish." A cloud moved in, blotting out the sun as we loaded the bikes into the truck. It was spring and most of the winter frost had melted, but Tanglewood was high enough on the mountain that there was still a chill in the air. Especially when the sky clouded over. Locals liked to brag that Tanglewood was a small town with a big heart, a romantic way to describe a place where you could run from one end to the other in thirty minutes and where a person couldn't sneeze twice without everyone else in town talking about it. And when it came to Jesse and me, news and gossip traveled extra fast and usually with a lot of bullshit added on top to make it more interesting. We weren't just any locals. We were Coltranes. Our great-grandfather, John James Coltrane, had founded the town. He'd started as a blacksmith, but his skills with a forge and hammer catapulted him to local fame. Eventually, every sportsman in the country wanted to own a Coltrane knife. Our grandfather, Zeke Coltrane, followed in his father's footsteps, although he never achieved the status that ole' John James had. But his son, our dad, William, had been just as good as his granddad. He couldn't keep up with the orders and pushed himself so hard, it

eventually killed him. Jesse and I had been making knives since we were big enough to swing a hammer. Bladesmithing was a family tradition, a tradition I was born into but one that I never chose on my own. A day never passed when I didn't wonder just how different my life would be if I hadn't been expected to follow the family trade. Sundance climbed into the backseat. I hopped behind the steering wheel as Jesse snapped shut the tailgate. "Hey, you going to Roxie's party tonight?" Sundance asked as Jesse opened the passenger door. "Fuck yeah, I'm going," Jesse answered before I could respond. "I know you are, dickface, I'm asking Zach. I heard Katy and Helen are both going, so that could be a good or bad thing since they both have their sights set on you." Jesse sat down hard on the seat and used the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat and dirt off his face. "Either way, you're guaranteed to get laid, and frankly, you've been in a terrible fucking mood lately so you need it." I peered over at him but didn't respond. "What? It's true. You're a grump all the time. Reminds me of that teacher we had in first grade, Mrs. Sourpuss or whatever her name was." Jesse twisted his mouth. "You've been wearing that same pinched face she used to wear when we got too noisy." I continued to look at him as he carried on with his comparison. He eventually caught the silent warning in my expression and zipped shut his big mouth. Jesse and I were pretty close in size, but I had more bulk. If the two of us ever came to blows, he'd be in trouble. Not that we'd ever come to blows. After our dad's unexpected death, Jesse and I had been left on our own. I was seventeen at the time, and even though I was only fifteen months older than Jesse, I'd always felt that I needed to be the one in charge, the one to look after my little brother. Now that we were grown, we always had each other's backs, a brotherly bond made more secure by the fact that we were each other's only family. We'd grown up with Sundance, and in a lot of ways, he was like a brother. Our dads had been best friends. Sundance was with us the day we found our dad collapsed dead over his anvil, and he took it just about as hard. I think that day sealed his friendship with us for good. The truck lurched from side to side as I turned it along the unpaved road leading back to the highway. Sundance leaned forward with his phone in hand. "I just told Roxie you'd be there, Zach, so no backing out now." I glanced up at the mirror. Sundance's reflection had that wide, jackass grin he was usually wearing. "Told you I hadn't decided yet." Sundance sat back against the seat and turned his attention out the window. "Roxie will be pissed if you don't show." "Yeah, pissed at you, weasel. You're the one who told her I'd be there."

"So, Jes, how is that bowie knife coming along?" Sundance deftly changed topics. A smart move. "Zach said the guy is some rich collector in New York." "It's fine." Jesse reached forward and cranked the music, leaving Sundance in another one-sided conversation. Since this topic didn't grate on my hide like the last one, I decided not to leave Sundance hanging. "Jesse's got to restart the blade. He decided he could pass on the quench test to see if the steel bar was strong enough. Thing busted clean in half just as he was getting the point right." Jesse looked over at me. "You take just a little too much fucking glee in retelling that story." I lifted my shoulder. "Not going to lie. It's pretty damn entertaining. In fact, I think it gets better each round." The truth was, Jesse had always been the one who had the potential to become a true master, a craftsman just like our great grandfather. He saw shapes and blades in a raw piece of steel long before he etched them on paper. Jesse could hold a bar of high carbon steel in his hand and know exactly what it could be before he even pushed it into the forge. But he refused to take the time to do it right. You could pound out the most beautiful blade in the world, but it didn't matter if you didn't pay attention to the details. But Jesse hadn't figured that out yet. His heart was in it, but his head was still clouded with pretty women, racing bikes and anything else that gave him a thrill. For Jesse, it was still about having a good fucking time, no matter the cost. "Deer." Jesse's hand shot forward to point through the windshield. The buck darted across the two lane highway. Sundance's phone popped out of his hand as I hit the brakes. It slid under the seat before he could retrieve it. Jesse grabbed it and immediately ran his fingers over the screen, twisting away from Sundance as he shot forward and reached for the phone. Jesse's wide, white smile flashed in his dust covered face as he tapped the phone. "Too late. I hit send." He handed it back. Sundance grabbed his phone and read it. "What the fuck? You asshole." "What did you write?" I asked. Jesse laughed. "Hey baby, I'm going to need a blow job later." Sundance smacked the back of the seat hard. Jesse turned around. "What are you so pissed about? Just tell Roxie it was me." "I wasn't talking to Roxie, dickwad." Sundance sat back and kicked the seat. I checked his face in the mirror. It was beat red. "Who were you talking to?" "I was talking to my mom." He kicked the seat again. "Fucker." Jesse's laugh shrank to a low 'oh, shit'. "Wait," Sundance said with renewed enthusiasm. "You're right. I'll just tell her it was you." "Don't you fucking dare." Jesse twisted around, leaned over the seat and fought Sundance for the phone. I slammed my foot against the brake hard enough to pitch Jesse back against the dash.

My brother looked at me with angry pinched brows as he rubbed his back. "Fucking hell, Zach." I lifted my hand and pointed out the windshield. "Deer."

3 JESSE

ach's hammer came down on the white hot bar of steel. I pressed my fingers Z against my temples to keep my head from exploding. A long night of partying never

worked well with a long day of making knives, but I'd done it to myself. It wasn't as if I didn't know that my work day would be filled with the loud, continuous clang of a hammer. But I was sure my brother was pounding the pre-form just a little bit harder and louder than necessary. The smirking grin he was hiding behind his heavy facial hair assured me of it. I walked over to my work table and stared down at the bar of steel. Somewhere inside the crude piece of metal was a bowie knife, and I needed to coax it from its hiding place. The customer wanted a Coltrane knife for his collection. He already owned two of my great-grandfather's and one made by my dad. Seemed to me that he had enough Coltrane blades to last him a lifetime, but he insisted he needed one from the new generation. I just wasn't sure my finished blade should sit next to the other Coltrane's in his collection. But the task fell to me. Somewhere along the way, Zach had decided that I had the skills to make our great-granddad proud. I just wasn't sure how he came to that conclusion. Zach was a great knife maker too, only I knew his heart wasn't always in it. For me it was the opposite. I had the heart for it but not always the head. I'd grown up knowing that I was going to be a bladesmith. While my friends were dreaming of wearing a police badge or a fireman's hat, I dreamt of wearing a leather bladesmith's apron. Dad even bought me one for my eighth birthday, along with a hammer light enough for me to swing. The shop lit up with bright light as Zach pushed his tongs into the forge. Through the generations, the contents of the shop had been updated with a few modern tools, machines our great-grandfather would have laughed and sneered at. Like the power hammer that did a lot of the grueling work of pounding out a blade, and the belt sander that sped up the sanding process and kept you from grinding down your fingertips. But the rest of the shop looked as if it had been pulled right out of the past. The rough-hewn bricks lining the walls and the floor had all been hand laid by ole' John James himself. Some of the original tree stumps, permanently set in mortar in the center of the shop, had, through time, become

closer to rock than wood. Two walls were lined with hammers and tongs of various shapes and sizes, some retired for good and some that Zach and I still used. Our dad had updated and enlarged the forge from the original. He'd also added hooks on the wall to keep our safety goggles, another addition that would have given John Coltrane a hearty laugh. Bear's big head popped up and a growl followed. Sundance walked through the open doorway of the shop looking just as hung over as me. His face scrunched at the light blaring from the forge. "When the heck is that dog going to recognize me?" he grumbled as he glanced back at Bear, who was still eyeing him like a piece of raw steak. I walked to the hook to grab my apron. "I told ya, Bear doesn't like strangers." Sundance held his hands out. "I've known that dog since he was a big, stupid puppy." I dropped the apron around my neck. "Still doesn't erase the fact that you're strange." "You're a fucking comedian this morning, Coltrane." Sundance walked over to one of the stools in front of the work table and sat down. The scar he had that lined the side of his face from his eyebrow to the top of his cheek was puckered pink from the cold morning air. The mark had been there since we were ten and Zach and I had dared Sundance to climb to the top of a thirty foot pine tree. He got up there just fine, fearless fucking nut that he was, but once on top he had a run in with an angry mother hawk. His descent was a little too reckless, and he managed to hook his face on a branch on the way down. His mom was so pissed at Zach and me for nearly causing Sundance to lose an eye that she banished us from their house for a month. By the time Sundance turned sixteen and passed six feet, he discovered that the scar was a great way to attract girls. Of course, the story of how he got it had changed from being hooked by a branch as he fled an angry bird to an all out battle with a vicious bear. Sometimes the tall tale earned him an eye roll, and sometimes it earned him a sympathetic kiss. Sundance leaned his elbows back on the table. "I was pretty wasted last night, but before I headed upstairs with Roxie, I saw you on the couch with Tammy and Jill. So?" "So?" I reached past him for my black marker. "Who'd you end up with? Tammy or Jill?" "Yep." I placed the metal bar on the table and began sketching out the form of a bowie knife. "You dawg. Both of them?" He laughed as he slapped his thigh. "I need to hear details." I skittered the felt tip of the marker across the rough surface of the bar. "If it interests you." "Fuck yeah, it does." Sundance shifted forward on the stool, looking all ears and anticipation. "Tammy had scrambled eggs and toast. I think she used the strawberry jelly, but

my head was kind of fogged from beer. I had one of Maggie's hash brown skillets, and Jill just ordered coffee." Sundance's face drooped with disappointment. I smiled as I turned back to my work. "Yep, a regular fucking comedian." He glanced over at Zach. "How come he didn't show last night? What's up with him? Is he thinking about Sage again? She's been gone for four years." "Nah, I don't think that's it. He's just getting that antsy feeling again, like maybe he made a mistake sticking it out here in Tanglewood. Just fucking restless as usual. He goes through those moods every few months. He'll be back to himself soon." Zach and I were close, so close that sometimes it seemed we could read each other's minds. I knew with him there was always those little pin pricks in his mind, poking at him, making him wonder if he should move on from this life and from Tanglewood. Sage, his high school sweetheart, had left three years after graduation, at a time when Zach had only one goal, to become a master bladesmith and carry on the family business. But Sage wasn't willing to commit to a life in Tanglewood. The breakup was mutual and easy, considering how fucking crazy they had been about each other. Sundance pulled out his phone. "Shit, Roxie is pissed that I left without waking her." He texted something back. "Not very gentlemanly," I quipped. "Yeah, coming from the gentleman expert. I knew if I stayed, then we'd have to have a whole conversation about which way things were going, and as far as I'm concerned, they aren't going anywhere." I turned the metal bar to point the opposite direction and continued my drawing. "So, you just wanted to fuck? A fuck and leave." "Hey, up yours. You are the king of the fuck and leave," he said sharply and then pressed his fingers against his forehead. "Damn hangover. Everything I learned I learned from my two best buddies, the Coltrane boys. So don't start any sermon, asshole, because I'm not buying it." "No sermon. You do whatever you want. I'm changing my ways." "Right. I'll believe that when I see it." In the back of my mind, I'd been working hard to convince myself to straighten out in both my work life and my social life. So far, my convincing just hadn't worked too well. "Hey, did you see it's going to be spitting icy rain for a few days?" Sundance changed to the default topic of weather. "Spring sure looks more like winter than spring this year. I guess we'll have to postpone our next ride." "Looks that way." Sundance hopped off the stool. "I'm out of here before Zach starts pounding that hammer. I've got work to do." Zach and I weren't the only locals who had a family trade handed down through generations. Sundance, or

Nathan Armstrong the third, as he was more formally known, was from a long line of leathersmiths. Sundance and his dad made all of the custom leather sheaths for our knives. His sister, Sherry, had gone a different direction than leather and used her artistic talents to become a tattoo artist. We were a town of five thousand, and we had our own tattoo parlor. Zach was more than a frequent customer. Sherry liked to joke that he technically owned more of her house than she did. I'd always considered it pretty damn cool to grow up in a town filled with people who could create amazing objects and heirlooms with their hands. And those skills were passed down through generations. It was exactly the vision John Coltrane had had for the town when he laid the first row of bricks for the shop. "What are you working on?" I asked. "I've got to finish that damn saddle before Turner changes his mind on the design again. Later." He glanced toward the forge as he headed out. "Later, Zach." "Later, Sundance." My shoulders scrunched up around my ears as Zach turned to the anvil with his glowing piece of metal. He lifted the hammer and let it drop with an extra loud clang.

4 JOELLE

urned out an open boxcar wasn't the most comfortable way to travel. T Especially when the passenger had no sweatshirt, no snacks and desperately

needed a bathroom. I had been too hungry and cold and uncomfortable to sleep. Even when the rhythmic click-clack of the wheels on the track had lulled me into a drowsy state for a few minutes, there was always some noise or jolt or interruption in the rhythm to snap me out of it. But the new day brought with it new hope. I wrapped my arms around my knees and brought them close to my body, hoping the smaller I was, the less cold I would be. My arms and legs were covered with gooseflesh, but it wasn't just from the chill in the air. My elation at freeing myself from Bobby's control had been quickly replaced by the terrifying reality that I had jumped into an empty boxcar heading north all alone, without money, or phone, or even a damn sweatshirt. I looked at my bleak surroundings and wondered how long I'd be stuck inside the shambling wood box. My answer came sooner than expected. I fell sideways as a hissing squeal pierced the air, and a sudden deceleration slowed the train. I pushed to my feet and walked to the opening. The landscape outside had shifted from unkempt, mostly uninhabited flatland to rocky inclines and fragrant evergreens. We were heading through the mountain pass. The sun had slipped behind a quilt of dark clouds. The frigid air made more sense now, but that didn't help my situation. Another drop in speed nearly pitched me sideways again. I definitely still hadn't grown sea legs, or, in this case, train legs. I held fast to the edge of the door and watched as the gravel-covered ground floated past. Even at a snail's pace, a jump from the car seemed daunting, as if I could easily snap both ankles on the landing. That would just be the cupcake's icing, two broken ankles in the middle of nowhere. On the bright side, I'd most likely freeze to death long before tomorrow's sun arrived. A squeal of brakes split the air again. A sign whirred past welcoming the train to the town of Tanglewood. The giant beast slowed and then stopped. I had gotten so used to the noise that the instant quiet stunned me. I could hear voices in the distance, the engineer or one of the other train workers. My body tensed as it

suddenly occurred to me that they might be inspecting the train. Did they arrest people who jumped boxcars? I decided not to wait and find out. The train had come to a complete stop. It was my best chance to jump out without breaking a leg or leaving behind a significant amount of skin. I leaned out and squinted into the glacial breeze rolling down off the mountains. Two men stepped up onto the second engine and disappeared. I sat down on the edge of the floor and pushed off. It turned out that the boxcar had provided some protection from the cold. Now I had nothing but my own thin arms to protect me. I wrapped them tightly around myself and headed away from the tracks and my less than magical carpet. I was not fifty steps into my journey to find, at the very least, a bathroom and warm corner to take shelter, when the clouds above began dripping an icy rain. The drops were misty and light at first, but with each step, they fell faster and harder. It seemed like everything was working against me. Whenever things seemed especially bleak, like now, I thought about Lolly. She had glowing skin and a gracious smile that never faded, no matter how bad things got. Even when the bills were piling up and the fridge was close to empty and Lolly had to work extra shifts at the hospital, leaving me on my own for hours, we were always absurdly happy. One particularly grim day, the day I stayed home from school with the flu, always stood out to me. A collector came and took some of our rental furniture, leaving us with a few folding chairs and a wobbly kitchen table. I ended up transforming our tiny apartment into a castle using sheets, my crayons and the cardboard from a refrigerator box our neighbor had dumped in the parking lot. Lolly returned from her shift and stood in the center of the room in her nurse's uniform, working hard not to cry. She looked around at the cardboard thrones and flouncy drapery made from bed sheets. "Joelle Taylor Sutton," she said, "you don't just make lemonade out of lemons. You make lemon chiffon pie." After that we sat against our cardboard thrones and ate crackers and peanut butter. In our minds, it was a feast fit for royalty. My time with Bobby had been filled with so much despair, I had lost that enthusiasm for life. I needed to find that girl again, the one who could make pie from lemons.

5 ZACH

he rapid fire of bullets came from the living room. Jesse had taken the cold T fried chicken, leftover from lunch, out to the den to eat while playing video games.

I lifted the pile of dishes out of the sink and started the hot water. Every dish in the kitchen was dirty, and we'd resorted to eating off napkins. I decided to bite the bullet and fill the sink with soap and water. Rain splattered against the kitchen window as the mountain breeze pushed it across the yard. The temperature was unusually cold for spring. I shut off the water and was just about to dive my hands into the frothy suds when my phone rang. I pulled it out and paused, wondering if it was easier to ignore my mom's call or get it over with. I opted for the second choice. "Hey, Mom." "Zachary, how is everything in Tanglewood? You boys never call anymore. Are you eating right?" I surveyed the cluttered kitchen table. The pizza crusts from this morning's cold pepperoni and green pepper breakfast were still sitting on crumpled foil, and yesterday's cheeseburger wrappers were wadded up and sitting on a plate of half eaten tater tots. "Yep, like kings." "I'll bet. You need to eat from the four food groups." "If you count beer and ketchup as food groups, we're right on target." A loud mom sigh floated through the phone. "I just got off the golf course. The sun is shining out here, but I saw you were getting some cold rain up in Tanglewood. I hated the weather up there." "Along with everything else about the place." The summer before I started junior high, Mom and Dad called Jesse and me into the kitchen. We should have known something was up when our nutrition obsessed mom stuck hot fudge sundaes in front of us just an hour before dinner. Jesse and I always knew that our parents weren't all that fond of each other. Mom had grown up in Tanglewood, but like me, she'd always had an itch to leave the place. That sticky summer day, while Jesse and I shoveled scoops of ice cream into our faces at breakneck speed, worried Mom might, at any minute, change her mind, my dad announced that their marriage was over. A week later, Mom packed up and moved to Arizona to live with

her sister where it was warm and dry. When Dad died, she came back for six months, until I turned eighteen. She couldn't wait to get back to the warm climate, and Jesse and I were just as glad not to have her hanging around, telling us what we were doing wrong and nosing into our social lives. We'd spent our teen years without her, and suddenly, having a mother just wasn't working for us. She was just as happy to kiss us both on the cheeks and head back to her sister's house. "Zachary, have you heard from Sage?" She went straight to the nosing in on personal stuff. I preferred to keep the topic about healthy eating. "Nope. And I'll just preempt your next question with my usual—no one special in my life yet, Mom. Hey, I've got some stuff to finish." I headed out to the den. Jesse was still hunched over the controller. He didn't pull his attention from the game. "I think Jesse needs one of your four food group pep talks. He eats like he's three years old." Jesse's face popped up. He creased his brow in question. I handed him the phone. "It's Mom." He yanked his hand back as if I was handing him an angry rattlesnake. His arm waved wildly in the air, telling me no. "Here's Jesse, Mom. It was good talking to you." Jesse grabbed the phone from my hand. I heard him listing the foods he ate today as I left the room. The impressive mound of soap bubbles in the sink had started to dissolve. Jesse's end of the conversation was pretty quiet, which meant Mom was going on about something. It was almost comical to have her come up with motherly nuggets over the phone when she had basically missed our last ten birthdays and Jesse's high school graduation. Although, she had an excuse for that because she'd twisted her ankle on the golf course just days before. Apparently, every three or four weeks, the woman woke up feeling as if she needed to stretch her mom muscles and give her two sons unwanted advice. "Yeah, Mom, I will. Yes," Jesse said with frustration as he stepped into the kitchen. I glanced back at him. He gave me the finger with his free hand. I turned back toward the window, and a glimmer of movement caught my eye. Rain had mixed with dust on the window pane, so I leaned closer to get a better look. Jesse slapped my phone down on the table behind me, but the scene outside had my full attention. "You suck, but you're doing the dishes, so I won't have to kick your ass this time," Jesse muttered as he started to walk out. "Hey, Jes"—I didn't pull my gaze from the yard—"Is that your coat hanging on the hook outside the shop?" "Shit. Yeah it is." I tilted my head to get a better view. "Just thought you'd like to know that a pretty amazing pair of legs is walking away with it." "What? Fuck." Jesse raced out the door and I followed. The long legs picked up speed. The coat thief pulled the hood up over her head

and made a run for the woods behind the shop. The terrain was wet and rough and littered with pine needles, but her legs weren't just amazing. They were fast. Jesse circled around to stop her as I came up behind her. She heard us closing in on her. The coat slid off her shoulders, and she spun around with it in her hands. "Here. I'm sorry." Long brown hair framed her face and hung in waves around her thin shoulders. She looked pale and tired and incredibly cold standing in shorts and a thin t-shirt in front of the tall spruce trees lining the yard. Her big brown eyes were glassy. Her button nose was red from the cold, almost as red as the lush pair of bow shaped lips beneath. Her stunning beauty was not lost on my brother either. Jesse recovered faster though. He took a cautious step toward her as if she was a frightened fawn. "That's all right. Put it back on." I headed slowly toward her. She was too exhausted to run. Her body trembled violently from the icy rain. Her gaze shot from Jesse to me and back again. Jesse reached her first. He took the coat from her hand and wrapped it around her shoulders. She looked up at both of us. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually a thief." Her voice wavered and her face paled more. "I'm just really cold . . ." Her dark lashes fluttered, and her head lolled back as she collapsed into Jesse's arms. He swept her up. "We need to get her warm." I was already heading back to the house. "I'll put some more wood on the fire." Jesse crossed the yard with the girl as I filled the crate with wood from the stockpile. I hurried inside. Jesse lowered her onto the couch, still wrapped in the coat. I tossed more logs on the dying fire. The fresh wood cracked and hissed as flames surrounded it. I grabbed one end of the sofa. "Lift up the other side. We need to get this closer to the fire." We moved it a few feet from the stone hearth and lowered it to the ground. A tiny sound came from the girl's lips. Her eyes opened slowly. She looked up at the beams on the ceiling in confusion. Not wanting to scare her by looming over the couch like a menacing tattooed giant, I knelt down behind the couch. Jesse did the same on the opposite side. Her face turned from side to side. Her chin had stopped trembling, and some pink came back to her cheeks. She glanced over at the fire. "Where am I?" There was more whisper than voice coming from her lips. "You're in our house in the town of Tanglewood. I'm Jesse and this is my brother, Zach." "I'm Joelle. Whose coat did I steal?" "It's mine," Jesse said. "And you can steal it whenever you like." Her long lashes closed, and it seemed she would drift off to sleep, still drowsy and exhausted from the cold. Jesse looked over at me. I could read his thoughts. She

was incredible, like a delicate piece of art. But where the hell did she come from? Her almond-shaped eyes opened again. The fire glittered in her brown eyes. "Joelle, Tanglewood is sort of out of the way." I brushed a wet strand of hair off her forehead. "How did you get here?" She seemed to be considering her answer. The corner of her lip turned up in a hint of a smile. "I came by magic carpet." "Did you say a magic carpet?" Jesse asked. "Actually, it was a rattling old boxcar. I just thought magic carpet sounded better." "So you ride the rails?" I knew there was an entire group of people who traveled from place to place jumping boxcars. This girl didn't really fit the image I had in my head of a rail rider. “That was my first trip on a train." She turned her face to the fire and closed her eyes to feel the heat on her skin. "I hadn't really planned on it, but I needed to leave—" A hitch in her throat halted her words. She grew quiet. Whatever it was that had caused her to jump a boxcar, it wasn't something she could easily talk about. "Hey, are you hungry?" Jesse asked. Her hands lifted out from the coat. She was holding a flattened granola bar. "Found this in the pocket. So I guess I was stealing this too." Jesse flashed her that gold medal smile that caused many women to make bad decisions. I hated that fucking smile. "Yeah, since I don't even remember putting that granola bar in the pocket, I think we can find you something a little fresher." He took the bar from her hand. I pushed to my feet. "Do you want a roast beef sandwich?" Her eyes sparkled at the mention of roast beef. "With mustard?" "Of course. What do we look like? Cavemen?" It was a relief to see color in her face. I dreaded to think what might have happened if I hadn't looked out the window. Even with Jesse's coat, she wouldn't have survived the night outside. She scooted up against the arm of the couch. "If you two are examples of prehistoric man, then I was born at the wrong time in history." "Hey, make me a sandwich too while you've got the stuff out," Jesse suggested. "Why don't you come into the kitchen and make one for yourself?" I titled my head to let him know to follow me. He reluctantly pushed to his feet. "Holy shit," Jesse whispered as we walked into the kitchen. "It's like the heavens opened up and dropped a shiny little star on our doorstep. Did you see those eyes? Those lips? Hell, those legs?" "Yeah, Jes, I'm not blind. It's a good thing I spotted her out there." I pulled the roast beef and mustard out of the refrigerator. Jesse pulled the bread off the counter. "I'll say. She'd have frozen to death tonight. Can't believe she's all alone. Man, some jerk is at home throwing his fist through a wall for losing her." I glanced out toward the living room. The fire cast a glow over the room. Joelle

was curled up in the oversized coat, watching the fire. "She's definitely running from something or someone." "What should we do?" I squeezed the mustard on the bread. "We can let her stay here until she figures out where she's headed. How much trouble can one shiny little star from heaven be?" We both stopped the sandwich production and watched as our big, always wary of strangers, dog stood up from his pillow in the corner of the den. He padded across the room on his massive paws toward the couch. Jesse moved to head in there and stop him from growling at the wet stranger on the couch, but I placed my hand on his arm to stop him. We watched in silence as Bear walked in front of the couch and looked up at Joelle with his black eyes. Bear was a wolf hybrid, half wolf and half something far more domestic. Most people were afraid of him, which worked perfectly for a dog who didn't have much love for strangers. In fact, we'd found him abused, starved and left for dead on the side of the road, so he didn't care for most people. Couldn't blame him for that. "Oh wow, aren't you beautiful," Joelle's voice was stronger, less shaky than before. She pulled her hand free from the coat, and without the slightest hesitation, she stroked Bear's thick gray fur. Bear released a satisfied dog sigh and plopped down in front of her. "Shit, look at that. Turns out Bear is a big ole flirt," Jesse muttered. "You're right. She doesn't take up much room. She probably doesn't eat much, and Bear has given her his nod of approval. How much trouble can she be?"

6 JOELLE

he sandwich warmed me from the inside and the fire from the outside. I felt T human again. After leaving the train, I'd followed a sign that pointed out the way to

Coltrane Park. It was really more a patch of green on a corner with a sandbox and jungle gym, but it had a bathroom. I'd nearly wept tears of joy when I saw the restroom sign. After that, I spent a long afternoon sheltering in quiet corners and under shop awnings. Tanglewood was a small but bustling little town. In between the usual pharmacy and hardware type stores were shops displaying handmade wares. A potter's shop, where the owner proudly displayed that his name was indeed Harry, had a front window filled with beautiful glazed pottery of every shape and size. Next to Harry's pottery shop was a store called Glass Fancy. The sign boasted that the Fancy family had been creating glassware for three generations. The displays in the window had included a blown glass dragon that was so fluid in beauty it looked as if it was flying through the air instead of suspended in glass. An intricate, labor intensive glass carousel lit with flickering lights sat in the other corner. I'd turned the heads of most of the people milling about the sidewalk and traipsing in and out of the shops. I was dressed for summer and not for the arctic chill sweeping over the town, making me look even more out of place. A few had nodded politely and some had just stared. I had no doubt that the town was small enough for locals to all know each other. Stupidly, I'd left the lights of the town to look for an empty house or car to take shelter in. There were no street lights and the roads twisted in every direction. Most of the houses disappeared, and I ended up lost. I was close to breaking down in despair when I smelled smoke from a fire. I followed it, deciding that where there was fire, there was warmth. I came upon a clearing with a rustic cabin and some outbuildings. The coat was hanging on a hook on the outside of a brick building. My feet took off toward it before I even gave it another thought. Bear, the dog who looked far more like he belonged in the wilds of Montana than lounging in front of a stone hearth, rolled onto his side with a deep groan. Zach had gone into the kitchen to wash dishes, and Jesse had gone to his room to find me a dry shirt. The brothers were definitely not a polished pair of boy next door types,

but for some reason I hadn't felt even a second of fear when I woke on their couch. I could only vaguely remember collapsing in front of a wall of trees. By then, I was so cold and hungry, I felt like an empty shell of a person. I could no longer think about anything but getting warm. I pulled the coat closed as I glanced around. The small cabin looked as if years ago it had been decorated by a woman, faded lace curtains on the front door, a still life of roses in a vase over the mantel and a braided rug under the couch and table in the corner. Most of the colors had faded from the curtains and rugs. The rest of the place was all guy. A video game console sat under a massive flat screen television, a high tech item that looked completely out of place and time in a cabin that looked as if it was at least a hundred years old. Muddy work boots were lined up along the stone hearth, and at least one shirt and two pairs of socks hadn't made it to the laundry basket. Heavy footsteps creaked the wood plank floor behind me. Jesse circled around the front of the couch holding a blue flannel shirt in one hand and socks in the other. He had the kind of face that you would find grinning up at you from a fashion magazine. A guy who with his long hair and tattoos was just raw enough around the edges to make advertisers clamor to have him model their clothes. He was tall with broad shoulders that strained against the fabric of his shirt. "You'll be swimming in this shirt, but it'll be better than those wet clothes you're wearing." He held up the pair of socks. "These will be too big too, but your feet will be warm." I sat forward on the couch and took the shirt and socks from his hand. "I can't thank you guys enough." Jesse sat on the couch. "Just glad you're feeling better." He pointed down at the snoring dog. "Bear doesn't usually like strangers, but he sure warmed up to you fast. And along that same line, most strangers don't warm up to Bear fast either. Most people shy away from petting him." "He's magnificent. Is he part—?" "Wolf? Yeah. Someone abandoned him as a puppy. Guess they had a second thought about taking in a wolf hybrid. He was a big pain in the ass as a puppy." Jesse's toe moved and tapped the dog's big paw. Bear kept snoring. "He chewed up every pair of shoes we had, steel toed boots and all. And when you sit on any of the chairs at the kitchen table, sit gently. Every leg has been chewed on like it's an ear of corn." I reached forward and stroked the dog's fur. It had a coarser texture than most dogs, no doubt a trait inherited from his wild ancestors. "Have you guys lived here your whole life?" "Since day one," Jesse said with a proud gleam in his blue eyes. His brother Zach walked into the room and sat across from the couch on the hearth. "His dark blonde hair and blue eyes stood in contrast to Jesse's darker hair and complexion. Jesse was almost as tall as Zach and just as broad shouldered but Zach was the filled out version of his brother. His shirt sleeves were pushed back to

his elbows from washing the dishes. It seemed there wasn't an inch of skin that wasn't covered with ink. Zach was just as handsome as Jesse but in a more classical, stoic sense of the word. He looked as if life had toughened him some while Jesse seemed more carefree, a more whatever life hands me kind of guy. But even with those differences, there was something in their faces that made it easy to see they were brothers. And it was easy to see they were close. "Who is the oldest?" I sat back. "Wait. Let me guess. It's Zach." "Yep," Jesse stepped in, "and he wears those extra fifteen months like a badge of honor. Thinks it gives him the right to be bossy." "No, your stupid choices give me the right to be bossy." Zach cut the sibling rivalry short. Something told me that kind of banter was usual in their house. The glow of the fire showed just how symmetrical his features were. His long beard hid his chin but something told me his jaw line was as perfectly chiseled as the rest of his face. "Not sure where you came from or who—" He hesitated. "Anyhow, it's none of our business. But if you need a place to stay, just until you figure out where you're headed, we've got a spare room. It's kind of dusty, and I can't guarantee there isn't a mouse or two living in the closet, but you're welcome to it." "We promise to be civil and not cuss too much," Jesse added. "That's unbelievably generous." I stared down at the flannel shirt and socks on my lap and was overcome by their kindness for a moment. God, had it been that long since I'd experienced decency? I lifted my eyes. Each brother looked genuinely concerned. Another emotion I hadn't seen for a long time. My throat seized up, and it took me a moment to speak. "Only if I'm not any bother and you must promise to act naturally. I'm not a delicate flower, and I don't mind cussing. I'm pretty good at it myself." I looked back down, mostly because I was nearly overwhelmed by the looks on their faces, such a stark contrast to the cold, hateful, predatory expression I was used to seeing on Bobby's face. Zach and Jesse made Bobby seem that much less human. "Since you're nice enough to allow me to stay a few days, I suppose it's only right that I tell you how I got here." I pulled the coat I was still wearing, Jesse's coat, around me. "It's not an unusual story . . . unfortunately, there are other women with the same problem. I was with a guy since high school, someone who I admired for a long time but who, through bad luck and his life going south once too often, turned into someone I could no longer respect or love. I was no longer safe, emotionally or physically. I was in his jeep and the train was heading through town. In a split second decision, I fled from his grasp." I decided to leave out the embarrassingly gritty details of what’d happened in the jeep. "The next thing I knew I was running alongside a train to catch a ride in an empty boxcar. No money, no warm clothes and no destination. Just me and my newly won sense of freedom." I found the courage to look up. They were both listening. Not judging, just listening. Not waiting to interrupt and yell and tell me how stupid I'd been like Bobby would have done. One brother, with his deeply profound gaze, who looked as if he knew the world could kick you when you were down but that courage could

always pull you through it. And the other, with his warm, friendly gaze, who looked as if he welcomed life's ups and downs because they made things more interesting. Zach sat forward and rested his arms on his thighs. The glow of the fire highlighted just how handsome he was. "After seeing how damn fast you run, I can see you easily outpacing a train." I felt a faint smile on my face, something that I hadn't felt too often lately, not even a slight one. "I ran track and cross country in high school. It wasn't something I'd planned on doing, but one day, the physical education teacher, a beastly woman who seemed to hate all children and yet somehow ended up an educator, made us all run a mile for time. I shot past about sixty other girls. When I reached the end, the teacher was standing staring at her stopwatch, looking as if she might fall over from a stroke. She was super nice to me after that. And I quickly discovered that I liked running, so I joined the team." I covered my mouth. "Wow, I'm just rambling on. You poor guys have been so kind, and here I am making you sit through my boring ass story." "Nothing boring about you—about it.” Jesse stumbled over his words. "I mean the story. It wasn't boring at all." Zach's brow arched. "Smooth, Jes." "What about family?" Zach continued. "Do you have someone to call? Someone who'll be worried about you?" It was a question I'd been on the receiving end of more than once and one I hated to answer because it always brought up the terrible night when I’d lost my only family. But this time, it would help explain my predicament. "There was just Lolly, the woman who raised me. She's gone now." I had never been able to use the word dead in the same sentence with Lolly. It was too wrong. She wasn't dead. She was gone, stolen from my life forever. "After that, there was just Bobby. Now it seems I'd have been far better off alone." Both brothers sat quietly as I unveiled the pathetic life I'd left behind. "You two are lucky you have each other. I always wanted a sibling, someone I could count on to be a forever friend. Jesse mentioned you've been here, in Tanglewood, since day one." Zach wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and got up from the hearth and the heat of the fire. "You might say we are Tanglewood. Our great-grandfather built this cabin and some of the town. He was a tradesman, a blacksmith, who eventually became known for being a master bladesmith." "A bladesmith?" I asked. "He made knives and swords." Jesse took up the topic. "Zach and I are trained in the family trade too. We spend most of our workday out in that brick building making blades. A lot of the locals are like us, artists and craftsman who learned a trade passed through generations." Zach picked up another log from the crate. "The town fell on hard times during my granddad's generation. The internet helped connect us to the rest of the world, and it turned out the rest of the world was interested in handmade goods. We ship

Coltrane knives and swords all over the world. Our dad was a master too. He raised us by himself after my mom decided Tanglewood and this cabin weren't part of her dream." "What a cool place to grow up, a town built by your great-granddad and filled with creative people whose families worked right alongside yours. Did you say Coltrane? The first place I went to was a place called Coltrane Park. The boxcar was lacking in modern comforts, namely bathrooms." Jesse laughed. "Impressive park, eh?" "It was small but, still, you have a park named after you. How cool is that?" Zach dropped the wood on the fire. The flames renewed with enthusiasm. "There's also Coltrane Cemetery just a few blocks west of the park." "A cemetery is a little less cool than a park, but most people go their whole lives never leaving their names on anything but a grave marker." Jesse laughed. It was a deep, soothing sound. "She's got a good point." I smoothed my hand over the flannel shirt on my lap. It felt velvety soft under my palm, as if it had been worn many times. I had nothing, not even a pair of panties, other than the ones I was wearing. "I'm starting to feel very silly. I left home so suddenly. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now I'm not so sure." "It wasn't silly if you were in danger," Zach reminded me. "Hey, you know what?" Jesse looked over at Zach. "I'll bet Sherry has some clothes that'll fit her." Jesse turned to me. "She is tall and thin like you. I know she'd be happy to lend you some things. She's the kind of person who'd give you the shirt off her back, which is just what we need." He pulled out his phone. "I'll call her right now." Zach sat casually on the spot that Jesse had just vacated. "If you wanted to take a bath or shower, we've got both. My mom had the tub added a year after she married my dad. Said if she had to live in a cabin, she had to at least have a tub. If you're interested." "Yes, absolutely. I would love to wash off the boxcar dirt." He stood up, and I was keenly aware of just how built he was as his shadow loomed over the couch. "I'll show you the way." I placed the flannel shirt and socks on the couch and peeled off the coat as I stood. My t-shirt was still damp enough that it clung to me. The sticky wet shirt didn't escape Zach's notice either, but he quickly pulled his gaze away. Something told me Jesse would have been more brazen in surveying my wet t-shirt. They were two very different brothers, but each had qualities that made them easy to like. I could hear Jesse in the kitchen, talking on the phone, as Zach led me down a short hallway. His big arms looked even more powerful covered as they were in tattoos. He pushed open the first door on the right. Considering the size of the front room I'd just left, the bathroom was far bigger than I expected. And just like Zach had promised, a shiny white tub with chrome fixtures sat in the farthest corner, right beneath a window and a stained glass light pendant.

Zach scooted inside ahead of me and swept up an armful of dirty towels and clothes and then shoved them into the straw hamper sitting between the sink and the toilet. "I apologize for the fact that both Jesse and I are total slobs." "No, it's fine. It's perfect." "I'll go get you a clean towel." He turned to leave. "Hey, Zach—" Under the bathroom lights, his eyes were nearly as blue as the cornflower blue tile on the walls. "Yes?" "He did a good job. You said your dad raised you guys by himself. He did a good job." His smile was far more subdued than Jesse's but just as sexy. "He'd be glad to hear that." He closed the door behind him. I walked to the mirror over the vanity, almost afraid to look. My skin was the pallor of bleached bread flour and dark rings circled my eyes. The only color was the ugly red hickey Bobby had left me with. The hideous mark would fade soon, but the hideous memories would stay with me forever. I walked to the tub, turned the handle and watched water flow into the white porcelain bath.

7 JESSE

herry pulled her car up to the house. I walked out onto the back stoop to meet S her. The rain had stopped, but the clouds still hung low in the sky, blotting out any

light from the stars and moon. I wasn't over-exaggerating when I told Joelle that Sherry was the type to give you the shirt off her back. After I'd told Sherry what had happened, she offered to bring up some clothes even before I had a chance to ask her. Sherry's thick, dark red hair was piled up in a messy bun on top of her head as she climbed out of the car and walked to the trunk. "Sherry, in case I haven't told you this enough, you are fucking awesome." "Jesse, my love, I'm pretty sure that is something you can tell me as much as you like without me getting tired of hearing it." She lifted a duffle bag out of the trunk and handed it to me to carry into the house. "I was glad to bring this stuff anyhow. Anthony has been bitching at me to clean out my closet. Poor guy basically only has a sliver of space to use for his suits." She tromped behind me up the porch steps and into the house. Zach leaned out of the kitchen with a beer in his hand, which he offered to Sherry. She waved it off. "Nah, I'm good. So, where is your guest? I brought a bunch of things she can try on." "I'll go let her know you're here." I headed down the hallway to the spare bedroom. Before I reached the door, I heard Joelle quietly singing. I stopped, not wanting my footsteps to drown out the honey sweet sound, a sound that I wouldn't soon forget. Sherry's laughter in the front room reminded me that she was waiting. The door to the spare bedroom was ajar. As my knuckles rapped on it, the door pushed farther open. Joelle's back was to me as she pulled my flannel shirt onto her shoulders. The light bulb in the room was dimmed by the collection of dust on the lampshade, but the bruise running across her back couldn't be missed. I found myself tightening my fists as I imagined myself pounding the asshole who'd hurt her into the ground. Joelle yanked the shirt shut and spun around. I pushed the anger from my

expression and loosened my fists. Me strutting and posturing like an angry bull was the last thing she needed. She smoothed her long brown hair back, off her face, a face that was as flawless as it was interesting to look at. I didn't need to see her on a big screen or in a crowded room to know she was a scene stealer. It made me feel just a little better knowing that at least the fucker had lost something so irreplaceable, he'd live with the regret forever. Joelle buttoned the shirt and then leaned over to look at the big socks on her feet. On me, they were ankle socks, but she'd been able to pull them up to mid calf. The shirt I gave her hung to mid thigh, and the shoulders drooped closer to her elbows than her shoulders. The ends of the sleeves swallowed her hands completely. She held out her arms. As the movement lifted the hem of the shirt higher on her thighs, I had to remind myself to take a breath. The words 'how much trouble can she be' coasted through my head until her silky voice snapped me from my thoughts. "How do I look?" I held back my true answer and sputtered out, "Fine. I guess the shirt is even bigger than I expected." She wrapped her arms around herself, again giving me enough glimpse of her smooth, lean thighs that I couldn't pull my gaze from them. Even knowing damn well I should. "It's so warm and soft. Nothing better than a well-worn flannel shirt. Guess you made exactly the right choice." "Considering well-worn flannel makes up most of my closet, I was pretty secure in making the right selection. Heard you singing earlier." Her long fingers flew to her mouth in embarrassment. "I didn't hear you coming." "I'm not all that surprised to hear that voice coming out of—" My gaze drifted over her again. "Well, it was nice." She held back a smile, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her. They were the kind of eyes that turned different shades of brown according to the light. In front of the fire, they'd been almost amber, and now, under the dusty light, they were a chestnut brown, made even darker by the curtain of long lashes. I still hadn't gotten the bruise out of my mind. "Joelle, do you need some aspirin or something?" "For what?" she asked, confused. Then her cheeks darkened as it seemed to dawn on her. "Oh, I guess it's pretty bad, huh? Can't really see it myself, but I definitely haven't forgot it was back there. Still, no, I don't need any aspirin. Thank you." Joelle leaned her head to look at something behind me. I turned around to Sherry's questioning brow. "Well?" Sherry lifted the duffle to remind me. "Get out so we girls can get down to trying on these clothes." I lifted up my hands. "I'm going. I'm going." I turned and looked back to Joelle.

"By the way, this is Sherry. She's real nice once you look past the obvious personality flaws." Sherry popped me on the shoulder. "Just kidding. She's pretty damn close to perfect." I curled my arm around Sherry's shoulders and pulled her against me to plant a kiss on her head. Sherry patted my chest. "That's better. Now get out." I walked out, and Sherry snapped the door shut behind me. I headed down the hallway and found Zach cradling a beer at the kitchen table. Bear was sleeping at his feet, stretched out from one side of the table to the next. I stared down at the cratered and nicked pine table. "Shit, is this what the kitchen table looked like underneath all the garbage? I haven't seen it in a while. And I see we've got a sink too. Who the fuck knew?" I reached for the second bottle of beer Zach had sitting in front of him and sat in the chair across from him. Zach lifted the bottle. "Guess we have to try and tone down our pig habits some, now that we've got a house guest." "How long do you think she'll stay?" I asked it casually, but the thought of her picking up and leaving fast depressed me. Maybe it was just because we didn't get that many new faces in Tanglewood or maybe it was nice to have something different from the usual routine or maybe it was because Joelle wasn't the type of person you wanted to just pop in and out of your life without really getting to know her. Zach shrugged as he gulped his beer. He placed the bottle back on the table. "Just hope she doesn't give up and go back to that jerk she left behind." I gripped the bottle hard as I picked it up. "She has a long, dark bruise on her back." The statement earned fast and hard attention from my brother. He stared at me across the table. "How'd you see that?" A short dry laugh left my mouth. "Really? That's the question that pops into your head when I tell you she has a gnarly bruise?" I decided to put him out of his misery. "I walked in just as she was pulling my flannel shirt up on her shoulders." Zach's beard shifted side to side, which meant he was moving his jaw, which meant he was mulling over what I said. He sat forward. "That's why we have to make sure to help her so she doesn't have to go back there." I grew quiet and took another drink from my beer. Zach was watching me. He always knew when I had something on my mind. I was never one to hold in what I was feeling. It was one of the ways that Zach and I were opposites. He liked to keep things buried, and I was always bringing shit to the surface, even when it wasn't a good idea. I leaned forward and rested my forearms on the table as I picked at the label on my beer. "I know this sounds stupid since Joelle just landed in our lives a few hours ago, but I've got a terrible itch to pound that asshole into fucking pulp. I saw that bruise and my hands just balled up, asking for something to hit. It's been a long time since I felt that way, but something about her—I just want to make sure she's

safe. I want to make sure no one ever hurts her again. I know that sounds fucking crazy since we—" "No, Jes." Zach looked toward the hallway. "It's not crazy at all. Or maybe it is. All I know is that I'm feeling the same damn way."

8 JOELLE

herry had that rare combination of red hair and brown eyes with only a S smattering of freckles on her golden skin. I was instantly envious. "You're so

beautiful," I gushed before realizing I said it. She laughed. "Coming from the stunning brunette, who looks like a goddess even wrapped in faded flannel, I consider that the highest of compliments." She put her hands on her hips. "Seriously, did you even have one zit as a teenager?" She leaned back and looked me up and down. "You're a little taller than me, and your legs are longer, but I think the clothes I brought will work just fine." She hauled the duffle bag up onto the bed and began to pluck things out of it. She had her red hair pinned up in a bun on her head, exposing the tiny vine of roses she had tattooed around her neck and up along the back of her ear. From the edges of tattoos sticking out from her sleeves, it seemed she might rival Zach in ink. It occurred to me that she might just be Jesse's or Zach's girlfriend. "How do you know Zach and Jesse?" "There isn't a soul alive in Tanglewood who doesn't know the Coltrane boys. And not just because they were always getting into trouble when they were teens." "Yes, they told me their great-granddad built the town." "He sure did." She held a pair of jeans up in front of me but then shook her head. "Too short." She tossed them back on the bed. "My brother, Sundance, is their best friend. All that trouble I just talked about? Well, my brother, was always right there with them." She held up another pair. "Here, give these a try." "Oh, I should probably wait until my panties are dry. I washed them in the bathroom sink. They're all I've got." Sherry waved her hand and turned back to the bag. "Got you covered." She pulled out a plastic tube that looked like a can for tennis balls and tossed it to me. "Ever seen a Tube o' Panties before?" "I can't say I have." I rolled the can across my palm. The label claimed that five pairs of panties were jammed into the canister. "Interesting." "Once a month, my husband and I drive an hour into the city to shop at the Bulk Buy Warehouse. I buy myself a Tube o' Panties every time. Don't ask me why, but I never leave that place without my can of underwear, a twelve pack of paper towels

and a pound of butter. It's a kind of weird, paranoid thing I've got going, a little switch in my head that says you don't want to run out of panties, paper towels or butter. Otherwise, everything else will go to shit. Anthony, my hubby, makes fun of me every time. But I've yet to see him leave the place without his coffee creamer. Even though we've got a cupboard full of the stuff, in every damn flavor, international or not, but he still buys it." She rummaged through the bag and pulled out a blue sweater. "This will go great with your dark hair. Although I'm sure you don't give a darn about that considering . . ." Her words trailed off, and she looked slightly embarrassed, as if she'd stepped into something she hadn't meant to. "Sorry, Jesse mentioned a bit about how you got here, and I just want to say 'good for you'. Hope you don't mind that he told me." Tears pooled in my eyes. I realized it was the first time I'd cried since I hopped on the train. And I wasn't crying about leaving behind my life. Far from it. They were tears of relief. I still had no idea what my future held, but I was taking the first step toward a better life. I shook my head. "I don't mind at all. You've been so generous, I don't know how I'll repay you." A weak laugh followed as I held up the plastic tube. "You even parted with a whole tube of panties." "Enjoy. Those were from my end of the world stash anyhow, so as long as there are no major calamities between now and the next trip to Bulk Buy, I'll be fine." "Gosh, I'll keep my fingers crossed for that. I don't know if I could live with the guilt of knowing that you were stuck panty-less during the apocalypse." Sherry laughed. "I can see you and I are going to get along great. Hope you'll stick around for awhile. Tanglewood is a slow moving town, but it's scenic and friendly and ridiculously quirky. My husband, Anthony, is the mayor. I met him when I was away at art school. Anthony was studying accounting. He's a total nerd." She pointed to herself. "Talk about the odd couple. We got married and moved back to Tanglewood so I could start my business. And the townsfolk thought he was the smartest, most well-mannered person in the world. He'd only been here six months when he ran for mayor and won in a landslide. Everyone had always wanted Zach to run for the office, like his dad and granddad had, but Zach blanched white at the suggestion. Can't you just see him sitting behind a desk, in a suit, making boring city decisions?" "Nope, can't picture that at all." I sat on the bed and opened the canister. "They didn't want Jesse to run?" I fished out a pair and pulled them on. Sherry's only response to that was a laugh. "Of course, that Jesse can charm the pants off anyone. And trust me he has. I think every twenty-something woman in this town has had her heart broken at least once by either one of the Coltrane brothers. Sundance has done his share of breaking hearts too. Not that any of them mean anything by it, they just don't seem interested in settling down. Zach had someone once, Sage, his high school sweetheart. But she decided the rest of the world had a bigger slice of pie waiting for her, so she left. I thought Zach might follow her. I think Sage thought so too. But it's pretty damn hard to leave behind

your family legacy. Plus, Jesse and Zach have been on their own for awhile, and as much as they like to bitch at each other, they are closer than any two brothers I know. You don't piss off one of the Coltranes without pissing off the other. Sundance is just a surname away from being their third brother." I picked up the pair of jeans. "Sundance, is that his real name?" Sherry began folding the clothes she deemed right for me. "It's his middle name, our mom's maiden name. When he was little, we called him by his real name, Nathan. On his tenth birthday, our dad decided my brother was old enough to go with him to the shooting range to practice hitting targets. By the time he was fifteen, he could outshoot and out draw anyone. That knucklehead can shoot the spots off a damn ladybug from hundred yards away. So we started calling him Sundance, like the famous outlaw, Sundance Kid." "I love that story." I stood up and buttoned the jeans. "How do they look?" "Uh, with that body, you'd look good in duct tape and garbage bags." I kept the flannel shirt on for the time being, mostly because it was warm and soft, and interestingly enough, it had a nice scent, Jesse's shampoo or soap. Whatever it was, I was already growing fond of it. Sherry carried the stack of folded clothes to the dresser. She slid them into the top drawer. "Here are some warm sweaters and t-shirts." She looked pointedly at the oversized socks on my feet, which were doing a great job of keeping my feet warm. "I'll look for some socks that fit. Maybe I have a Tube o' socks somewhere in my bottomless pit of a closet. And I know I have a coat that will fit you." "Oh my gosh, Sherry, you are beyond generous. I don't even know where to start to say thank you." My throat tightened before the next words, but I couldn't do anything to stop it. "You and Zach and Jesse have been so kind. I haven't—I left behind everything. A few hours into my ride in the boxcar, I worried that I'd just left behind all my belongings and that there wouldn't be anything or anyone waiting for me at the end of the train tracks. And now I'm here, standing in this cute, cozy room, wearing warm clothes and feeling as if maybe I can leave behind my past and find a future worth smiling about." I was feeling overwhelmed with emotion. So much had changed in the past twenty-four hours that I was still having a hard time believing it. Sherry crossed the room to give me a hug. "You just get your feet under you and you'll see, soon enough, everything will look brighter." "I won't forget this, Sherry. I won't forget any of this." I heard her sniffle. She lowered her arms and took a quick swipe at her cheek before facing me. "Great, now you've got me bawling." She waved her hand in front of her face to dry her eyes. "The brothers told me I could stay here until I figured out what I was going to do. I need to find a job and fast. I don't want to overstay my welcome or get in the way of their lives." Sherry drew in one long sniffle and followed it with a release of breath. She had deep dimples on her cheeks that added to her beauty. "What are your skills? What

job did you leave behind?" We sat on the side of the bed. "I went to city college to start a business degree, but I had to quit to work two jobs. Bobby, the man I was with, was spending more time gambling and less time working. We could barely keep a roof over our heads. I've worked in a candy store. I don't recommend it unless you're willing to grow two dress sizes and risk diabetes. I've worked as salesperson in a boutique where a group of fashion designers collaborated together to create collections. It was fun, but the customers were overly snooty. I've done lots of odd jobs, including gardening and pet care for people on vacation. In the last few months, I found that if I stood on a busy street corner—" Sherry sucked in a gasp. "No, not that," I laughed. "I guess I should reword that. I played my guitar and sang on street corners for spare change. On a good day, when people were feeling generous and I didn't sound like a frog, I could make fifty bucks in dollar bills and quarters. But I'm a fast learner. As long as you don't count the years I wasted thinking Bobby was going to evolve backwards into the handsome, pleasant high school quarterback. That lesson took way longer than it should have. You mentioned you had a business. What kind of business is it?" A knock sounded on the door. "Come in," I said. Zach popped his head inside the room and then entered. He looked at the jeans. "I see Sherry's got you all taken care of." I patted her arm. "She is the best." "That she is." "Oh please, you two." Sherry hopped up. "No really, please, keep going." She looked back at me. "You asked about my business? Here's a hint—" She dropped her hand on Zach's shoulder. "This gorgeous hunk of a man is my best customer." Jesse walked in right then. "Did someone call for a gorgeous hunk?" Sherry rolled her eyes. I rubbed my chin in thought. "Oh, right, duh. You're a tattoo artist." "Yep. I'm from a family of leathersmiths, but I decided to start my own family tradition. The only problem that I hadn't really considered when I moved back here was that there is a finite amount of skin in a small town. So I sell beauty and hair supplies on the other side of the shop. Which reminds me—" She stopped and seemed to remember something. She turned back to the bag, unzipped a front pocket and pulled out a hair brush and toothbrush. She handed them to me with her gracious smile and continued her conversation. "And that is where you come in. I've been thinking about hiring someone to help out in the shop. It's too much for me to keep an eye on the other side of the shop when I'm doing a complicated tattoo. This is my opportunity to give that idea a chance. If you're interested?" I was speechless. Sherry took my silence as indecision. "Well, mull it over." "No, I would love to work in your shop. The words were just stuck because—" I

looked around at the faces, all strangers just a few hours earlier, but they'd opened their home and given me food and clothes and friendly smiles. "Just thanks. If I say more, I'm going to get mushy and weepy eyed." Sherry's phone buzzed. "That's Anthony. He's probably wondering where I am. Take a few days to relax and think things through. Then one of these guys can bring you to the shop." "I will. And thank you again, Sherry." She hugged me and then stepped back to admire the jeans she'd brought me. "Those look amazing on you." Something made her pause before she turned to Zach and Jesse. A serious expression, one that might have been concern, crossed her face. "Maybe we can find her a place of her own soon. I'm sure someone in town has a room to rent." Jesse's brows pinched together, slightly agitated by her suggestion. "What's wrong with this room?" "Nothing," Sherry said quietly. She shook her head. "Nothing at all." She and Zach exchanged glances. It seemed Zach had picked up on her cryptic message. Jesse and I were still in the dark. Zach switched topics. "Thanks for bringing all that stuff by, Sher." "You bet." Sherry headed out of the bedroom. The front door opened and shut. The three of us stood in the center of the bedroom in an awkward silence, which Jesse thankfully broke. "Zach has some work to do in the shop, but I'm meeting some people at this place called Petty Thief. It's kind of a dive, but they serve cheap beer and there's usually some decent music playing." I looked longingly at the bed. Zach had put on clean sheets and a tattered but comfy looking quilt. "You guys go on with your evening. I don't want to get in the way. I didn't sleep at all last night. Turns out boxcars aren't all that cozy. I would really love to climb into that bed." "Of course," Jesse said. "Another time. Sweet dreams." "Anything else you need?" Zach asked before turning to leave. "Not at all. It's perfect. Everything is perfect." Zach nodded and slipped in a quiet smile before walking out and closing the bedroom door behind him.

9 ZACH

my hands around the steaming cup of coffee as I lumbered across the I cupped yard. The rain from the night before had left enough dew on the trees, grass

and roof shingles that everything had a crystal white sheen in the early morning sun. I'd knocked on Jesse's door on my way out to breakfast but only got an angry grunt in response. It seemed I'd have the shop to myself for a few hours. Joelle's room had been quiet too as I tiptoed past. I was glad she was catching up on her rest. She'd been through enough that she deserved a long, peaceful sleep. As Sherry left last night, I got the sense that she wasn't sure this whole thing, inviting Joelle to stay with us, was such a good idea. Sherry had that kind of intuition that could be written about in textbooks, that sixth sense that let her know when a song was about to come on the radio a good ten minutes before it actually happened. She could bring up someone from our past, someone who we hadn't seen or talked about in years and damn if that person didn't end up calling or showing up unexpectedly. Her husband called her abilities uncanny, but Sundance preferred to use the word creepy when talking about Sherry's premonitions. After Sherry left the house, I spent a good fifteen minutes in the shop, telling myself it was nothing and that I'd just misread her expression. I knew what she was getting at, but Jesse and I weren't kids or hormonal teens anymore. We could handle things just fine. I put my coffee on the work table and pulled the newspaper out from under my arm. I glanced at the headlines and skimmed a few articles before pulling free several sheets. I walked over to the forge, wadded the paper up into a tight ball and then lit the tiny ends that stuck out. I dropped the burning lump of paper into the pot inside the forge and then cranked air through the blower. I leaned down to the five gallon bucket of coke, a fuel we made from coal, and dug a shovel into it. Gray dust kicked up in the air as I filled the scoop with the hard porous nuggets. I covered the ball of paper and continued to add air to the forge. I leaned down and pushed some of the coke into the burnt out holes in the paper. I repeated, adding coke and air until the first nugget of coke glowed red. Some moist coal would help keep the fire and the heat in control. I walked over to the hook on the wall and grabbed my leather apron. I returned to my coffee. As I looked up, Joelle walked into the shop. Our normally unsocial dog

followed closely at her heels as if he'd found his new best friend. Joelle was wearing a sweater and the jeans that Sherry gave her. Her long hair floated around her shoulders, contrasting with the blue of the sweater. Her big brown eyes rounded with curiosity as she surveyed the shop. I hadn't imagined it. She was incredible. Bear, apparently confident that he'd seen Joelle safely across the yard, turned back and headed out to his favorite sun spot on the stoop. Joelle lifted the cup of coffee she was holding. "I hope you don't mind. I helped myself to some coffee." "Not at all. I was hoping you'd feel free to take some. Did you sleep all right?" "Yes. I feel like a whole new person." She walked to the table where I stood. Everything about her was mesmerizing. It was hard to take it all in at once, the amber brown eyes, the way her long fingers curled around the cup, the small beauty mark just above her lips, lips that look as if they'd been sculpted by an artist. I couldn't stop staring as she once again looked around. "This place is so cool. It has so much character. I'll bet these worn brick walls have some good stories to tell." She turned back to me with a smile that made me think, Jesse was right. A shiny star had dropped from the heavens right into our lives. "Yeah." I nodded. "Plenty of stories. Some good. Some bad." "Bad?" She looked at the forge. Flames roared inside, making it look like a clay covered dragon, snorting fire through its one big nostril. Then she scanned the tongs and hammers on the wall. Some were tarnished with age, and hanging, as they were, against the whitewashed brick wall, they looked like medieval torture implements. "On closer inspection, there is some dangerous stuff in here. But I guess that makes sense in a shop where you make knives. It's not exactly a florist's shop or bakery, is it?" I shook my head. "Not exactly. We've added a few things, a few power tools and safety measures, but otherwise, it's pretty much the same place where my great granddad made his blades." "I can't imagine what that's like—having a long line of family where everyone is connected by a skill." "It has its ups and downs. Most people grow up and start to find things they are good at and things that interest them. Jesse and I had our futures planned long before we took our first steps." "Ah, I see where that could be sort of limiting. I guess I was just thinking about having a strong family connection, you know, people who are part of your history." "True, that part is cool." I put down my cup and motioned for her to follow. I walked to the shelf where I'd left the knife I was working on. I had already pounded out the blade. While it was still in its crude form, I would use the forge and hammer to draw out the tang. "Huh"—she stared down at it on my palm—"I can see where it looks like a blade

on this side." "Today, I'm going to pound out the tang on this end. It's the piece of metal you see sandwiched between wood in the handle." "Oh, right. So that's what it's called? A tang." She smiled. "Almost sounds dirty." "Kind of does, now that you mention it." I headed toward the wall of tongs and pulled off the one I needed. I couldn't hold back a smile as I heard her footsteps following behind me around the shop. "I'm going to assume that the wild looking oven is not for cooking pizza," she said over my shoulder as I headed toward the forge. "No, but Jesse and Sundance have toasted marshmallows in it a few times. This is a forge. I'll heat the metal to white hot so that I can pound it into shape." I pinched the blade end of the knife in the tongs. Joelle watched with interest. I had to smile again. "Are you always in this happy of a mood when you're about to light metal on fire?" she asked. "Only when I've got a really cute spectator watching over my shoulder. Do you want to try roasting some steel?" "Heck yeah. Can I?" I motioned to the pair of gloves on the hook by the forge. "Pull those on your hands." As she walked to the gloves, I couldn't stop my gaze from lingering over her form, her long slender back and smooth hips, finishing in a perfect apple bottom. Even the way she moved made me hold my breath. I pulled my eyes away and pretended to be focused on the fire as she turned back around and pulled on the gloves. She stopped next to me and held up the gloves. They looked comical on her hands with her thin arms trailing out of them. "I think I could fit two hands in one glove. And maybe even a foot." "Yeah, not sure if they'll be safer or more of a hazard. Tell you what, I'll help you. Go ahead and take them off. I'm afraid they'll catch fire and you won't even notice until they burn halfway because they are nowhere near your fingertips." Joelle pulled the gloves off and returned them to the hook. And shallow asshole that I was, I once again took advantage of the scene. "O.K. I'm ready to do this. Where should I stand?" As soon as she asked, it dawned on me that my own devious mind had slipped this past me without me even knowing it. There was no way for me to show her how to hold a knife in the forge without me getting close to her. Real close. Close enough that I could feel every muscle in my body tighten with the thought of it. But my student was waiting, with an enthusiastic parting of her lips, an expression that was not lost on me either. I was an asshole, but I'd be a bigger asshole if I told her just to forget it. At least that was going to be my rationale. "Uh, you stand right here in front of me." Joelle stepped around, but was understandably wary of the angry red hot glow

coming from the forge. She backed up, and her bottom brushed against me. I clenched my jaw for a second to remind myself that I had no right to react physically. I couldn't stop myself, though, from breathing in the scent of her hair. I'd stuck some soap in the bathroom before she'd gone in to take a bath. It was the same bargain brand soap that Jesse and I used, but somehow, it smelled like expensive perfume on her. Her silky hair brushed my face as I leaned forward to help her hold the tongs. Joelle was concentrating hard on the task in front of her, which helped me focus too. I had to shut down the man side of my brain. Joelle didn't make that easy. My hands covered hers as she gripped the tongs. We pushed the steel blade into the fire. Instinctively, she leaned back against me to avoid the heat on her face. Her back settled against my chest, and after a few minutes, she relaxed in the circle of my arms. She had a good solid grip on the tongs, but I kept my hands over hers. I told myself it was for safety reasons, but I knew that was bullshit. Damn that Sherry and her fucking sixth sense. She took one look at Joelle and knew that having her stay with us wasn't going to be a good idea. "Zach," she said over the roar of the flames. "Yeah?" "My face is melting." I held the tongs, and she ducked out from under my arms. It was both a relief and a disappointment. Her cheeks were pink from the heat, and it brought out the gold specks in her brown eyes. "I can now say that I stuck metal in a forge. I can also say that I was a big wimp about it." "You did great for your first try. And this forge can be pretty intimidating when you're standing in front of it." Joelle tucked her hair behind her ear. For the first time, I noticed a fading hickey on her neck. I made too big of a point of looking at it, and she discretely pulled her hair back off her ear. The pink in her cheeks darkened again, but she didn't bring up the mark on her neck. Something told me it had to do with the jerk she left back home. I thought about Jesse's comment last night, about his urge to keep her safe, and I knew exactly what he was talking about. I pulled the blade from the fire. It glowed white with heat. I walked it over to the anvil and placed it across the top. Joelle stood a few feet back, with her arms folded and her face full of interest. Normally, I wasn't a big fan of people hovering or watching me work, but I would have been happy to have her stand around all day. I lifted the hammer and began to pound. Joelle startled at first but eventually moved closer to get a better view of the molten metal on the anvil. I turned the knife back and forth after ten blows to keep it even and flat. The clang of the hammer was absorbed in the thick brick walls, but it was still not an easy sound to get used to if you were new to it.

I motioned with my chin to the pair of headphones on the wall. We used them, occasionally, when a bad hangover or long night out made the noise unbearable. Joelle walked over and took them off the wall. She pulled them over her head, dropping her long bangs even lower on her forehead. It was hard to tell her age. She looked young, maybe early twenties. I pounded the metal. The reverberation pumped up my arm, making me work harder to mold the piece to the right shape. I glanced up only for a second and noticed that Joelle was no longer watching the piece of metal pinched between the tongs. She was watching me, my face, my arms, my hands. The metal was cooling enough that I needed to head back to the forge. I lowered the hammer. The sudden lack of sound was as loud as the clanging. I turned back to the forge. "I'm in awe," Joelle said as she took off the headphones and hung them on the wall. "That takes a lot of strength." She stepped closer. "I know this is bold." She reached up toward my bicep. "But do you mind?" It took me by surprise, but I managed to stutter out a 'go ahead'. Her fingers curled around the back of my arm and squeezed. "I guess it makes sense that you would need arms of steel to hammer steel." I laughed. "Guess so." She glanced toward the door. "I saw some bread and eggs in the refrigerator. Mind if I make us some breakfast? Or have you eaten? I'm starved." "Shit, what kind of host am I? I put on coffee but didn't even think to ask if you were hungry. And of course you'd be hungry. Eggs would be great. And the aroma might penetrate my brother's beer soaked dreams. He needs to get his ass out of bed and get to work." She pointed her thumb behind her. "Great. I'll get it started." "Sounds good." I watched her walk out, a spring in her step that once again made me smile. And that's when it occurred to me. It wasn't just the luscious lips, the breath stopping curves and the eyes . . . holy hell those eyes. It was the girl. She'd just gone through what seemed like an ugly bunch of shit, with an abusive guy, a guy so creepy she'd jumped a train just to get away from him. But even after all that, she was full of spirit and humor and smiles. It wasn't just the way she looked. She was the whole damn package. Maybe I wasn't such a one track minded asshole after all.

10 JESSE

he shower didn't do enough to wash away the effects of staying out too late T and drinking a few more than necessary. Every morning that I got up feeling like

shit, I told myself never again. No more staying out late and guzzling beer when I had to get up the next morning and pound steel. So far, I hadn't listened to myself once. A pretty voice was always nice to wake up to and Joelle's was exceptional. Especially when she was singing. She was doing something in the kitchen, something that was making my mouth water. I stepped into the kitchen. Joelle was stirring eggs in a frying pan. She had on the jeans and a sweater. I missed seeing my flannel shirt wrapped around her. Delicious was the word that came to mind, only it wasn't all about the aroma swirling around the room. Joelle heard me enter and flashed me a smile as she looked up from the stove. "Morning." "That voice of yours is a whole lot better than an alarm clock." She gasped. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you with my silly crooning?" "Not at all. My stomach woke me. It told me—there's something real good happening in the kitchen so get your sorry ass out of bed." I walked over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup. "I hope I don't let your stomach down then." She added some salt and pepper to the scrambled eggs. "Anything I can do to help?" "Nope. I've already let Zach know they're almost done." Bear barked once from the back stoop. I walked over and pushed open the screen door. "Guess you were smelling those eggs too, buddy." "Is it all right if I put a spoonful in his food bowl?" Joelle asked. "He'd be insulted if you didn't." I sat down at the kitchen table with my coffee and watched with great interest as Joelle walked to Bear's food corner with a spoonful of eggs. She stood over the bowl and blew gently on the eggs to cool them. My day had barely started, but I figured watching her purse those lips and blow on those eggs was going to be the best

damn thing to happen all day. Aside from hearing her sing again. Joelle patted Bear and laughed as he sucked in his treat with one snort. "Do you always sing when you're cooking?" As she tucked her hair back behind her ear, I caught the pink in her cheeks as she focused on the frying pan. "I can't believe you caught me singing again." She glanced toward my feet. "For someone wearing big work boots, you walk like a ballerina. I didn't hear one footstep in the hallway." "I was trying to avoid noise." I pointed to my head. "Too long of a night." "Then I apologize again for the clamor in the kitchen." I leaned back in my chair. "No need. That smile of yours has already wiped away any of the ill-effects of too much drink and not enough sleep." Joelle turned shyly back to the stove. "And to answer your earlier question about my singing—" She reached for a plate, piled it with eggs and carried it to the table. I knew I was staring like a fool, but she was hard to look away from. "When I was young," she continued as she filled the next plate. Zach walked into the kitchen, and she set a plate down for him. "Lolly, the woman who raised me, would tease me for always singing. No matter what time of day and no matter what I was doing, even if it was some drudge-filled task like washing dishes or finishing math homework, I would sing." Zach had entered in the middle of the conversation, but he listened with interest. Joelle pulled out the third chair and sat with her own plate of eggs. "To tell you the truth, that habit of singing and humming all the time had vanished in the last few years. Guess it's back." "These are the best damn eggs in the world." I shoveled another forkful into my mouth. "Glad you like them. They are my specialty. In fact, they are my only specialty." "You've mentioned that Lolly raised you." Zach leaned forward and took a piece of toast from the plate. "She did. She was awesome, brimming with charm, and she had so many sayings and chants to go along with every turn in life. I always talk about her raising me, but she was the only mom I ever had. My real mom was only sixteen when she had me. Lolly was an emergency room nurse, and one night, a girl walked in sickly and thin and crying. She was carrying a baby swaddled in newspaper. It was me. Lolly, who had more compassion than ten people joined together, took her in. Even though she didn't have much herself. Most of her money went to her own grown son, who was constantly in trouble. Rory, that was my real mom's name, took off in the middle of the night, leaving me with Lolly. Lolly tried to adopt me, but she was unmarried and didn't have much to her name, so she stayed my foster mother until—" Her voice trailed off. "Anyhow, I figure if my mom hadn't abandoned me and left me with Lolly, I would never have lived to see the age of two." Zach sat forward for a napkin. "Lolly sounds like she was quite a woman."

Joelle looked at him with an expression that was pure admiration. Damn my brother for always knowing exactly what to say. "She was." Joelle grew quiet as she stirred her eggs around, seemingly losing interest in them. "I was in my senior year in high school," her quiet voice broke the silence. "Lolly was working the night shift in the emergency room. I'd spent the evening studying for a math test and I fell asleep on the couch with my book and notes piled on my chest. The phone rang and startled me so bad, my note cards flew in every direction." Almost as if he'd sensed the emotion in her tone, Bear walked over, sat down and rested his big head on her lap. I slipped Zach a look, which he returned with the same disbelief. Our dog was head over heels in love. Who could blame him? I was watching her tell the story, and the whole damn time I had to fight the urge to circle around the table and pull her into my arms. She patted Bear's head. "I can remember looking at the clock on the wall. It was two in the morning, and I thought, who the hell would be calling at this time? Then the terror struck, that flash of fear when you remember that middle of the night calls are always bad news. I tossed my book away and made a clumsy grab for the phone. On my way to answer it, I'd somehow managed to convince myself it was just Lolly calling to tell me she would be later than usual or that she was having coffee with friends after work. But the man's voice on the other side of the phone shattered those hopeful moments." Joelle had to work hard to lift her gaze to us. She favored each one of us with a faint smile. "You two are so damn polite, just stop me when I'm boring you." I reached across and took her hand. It was a simple gesture, not one I'd planned or given any thought too, but something about the move caused Zach to tense up next to me. I passed it off as him just trying to be boss and keep control of things. "Like I told you last night, there isn't one damn thing about you that's boring." I let go of her hand and flicked a quick sideways glance my brother's direction. Her throat moved with a swallow as if she was working up the words. "The man on the phone was a police officer. Lolly had been helping the paramedics as they rolled in a gun shot victim. Before the glass doors slid shut, a man walked in with a shotgun and fired a bunch of rounds. Lolly's protective instinct kicked in, and she draped herself over the bloodied man on the gurney. She saved him but she took a bullet in the back. She died a few minutes later." Zach and I had the same reaction. Stunned silence. I was the first to find my tongue. "Shit, Joelle, that story is something else. I was just expecting something like a heart attack or maybe a car accident, but shit . . ." Joelle took a deep, steadying breath. "Losing her was like having every light in the world go out all at once. I guess that was why it was so easy for Bobby to fill the hole in my heart. I just needed someone, anyone. Only it wasn't long before I realized he couldn't fill my heart. He could only keep me from being alone. It wasn't long before I realized that being alone would have been far better." She forced a smile, it wasn't her real smile, the one that lit the room, but the other

smile. The one people wear when they are trying to hold back the hurt. "That's why you two are so lucky to have each other." Zach put down his fork and sat back. "Yeah, even though I have to put up with this knucklehead every day, not sure I could do life without him." I tossed the crust of my bread onto Zach's plate. "Backhanded compliment but I'll take it." Joelle's chair scooted back. "Well, I've rambled on enough. I'll clean up the mess I made." I got up. "Nope, you cooked. I'll clean. Besides, I'm in no hurry to get out to the shop." "Jesse, that bowie knife isn't going to make itself." Zach stood with his plate. I pointed at him. "See, there you go channeling Dad again. I'm going to do the dishes and then I'll get started." Zach scraped his plate into the trash and put it in the sink. "You sure you even know how to wash dishes?" I waved at him to get out. Joelle lifted the skillet from the stove. "Would it be all right to watch you guys work once I'm done here? It was amazing to watch Zach this morning." I cast a questioning glance at Zach. "This morning, eh? Didn't know Joelle was in the shop this morning." "I held the knife in the forge and everything. I was a total wimp about it, but with Zach's help, I think my first bladesmithing lesson went pretty well." I looked at Zach again. He shrugged casually, as if it was no big deal. "I'll bet he was a big helper. Zach is good at that." "You can come watch anytime, Joelle," Zach said just before walking out the back door. I filled the sink with hot water and tried to wash away the visions in my head of Zach helping Joelle in front of the forge. My brother was pretty damn smooth, so to an outsider, or even to Joelle herself, it probably seemed innocent enough. Joelle's arm brushed mine as she reached for the dish cloth. The light touch of her skin against mine broke me from my thoughts. "Did you sleep all right in that old bed? I know the mattress is thin, but it hasn't been used much." Joelle picked up a plate and washed it. "I slept great." She lowered the plate into the water and looked at me. I swallowed trying to regain my composure from the impact of her brown gaze. Up close, she was beyond stunning. She was fucking breathtaking. "I woke this morning and realized that it was the first night I could sleep and get lost in my dreams without any fear." I swallowed again, but this time it was to absorb the pain I felt when I thought about her having to be afraid every night, every day, hell, probably every minute. That was when I knew I had to get the stupid, jealous thoughts about Zach helping her at the forge out of my craw. Fate had brought Joelle here to Tanglewood, and if she was feeling safe for the first time in years, then I was going to make damn sure

Zach and I weren't going to do anything to screw that up. I was sure Zach felt the same. Now the only problem was how to do that, how to listen to her singing and laughter, or see her tuck her hair behind her ear, or be greeted with her smile, how to spend all this time with Joelle and not fall crazy in love with her.

11 JOELLE

hen I was little, Lolly and I used to take the bus for a day at the beach. One of W my favorite things to do, other than play in the waves, collect shells and toss potato

chips for the seagulls, was to walk along the pier. We had a tradition where we nibbled a double-dipped ice cream cone with rainbow sprinkles while watching the local artist paint portraits of tourists. I, being a kid, never had the patience to sit for one of the portraits, and Lolly certainly never had the extra money to pay for one. But we both marveled at how the man was able to draw someone's face out of a blank canvas. And he did it with speed and confidence. Watching an artist at their craft was always magical, but watching the Coltrane brothers, work side by side, mostly in silence other than a few gestures or nods of the head, while they coaxed flinty smooth knives from crude pieces of metal was something altogether mesmerizing. It might have been their extreme confidence, as if they hadn't just learned the skills but been born with them. Which, in their case, was somewhat true. It might have been the ease with which they pounded away on a glowing piece of metal with their powerful arms and hands, forming a curve and a point as if it had always been there and just needed to be set free. Or it might just have been that the two brothers, with their perfectly sculpted arms and symmetrical, handsome faces, were, in themselves, works of art, but they were incredibly fun to watch. They were both wearing short sleeved t-shirts beneath their leather aprons, giving me a full unobstructed view of their arms as they worked. The muscles tightened and lengthened as they sanded and hammered. Even their tattoos seemed to flow with the movements of their arms, like they'd been drawn to coincide harmoniously with the swing of the hammer. And their shop, a somewhat shadowy brick building where modern equipment stood side by side with primitive tools from a time long past, was also captivating. The maze of anvils and tables and tools provided so many focal points, it drew your gaze in every direction. Zach was sanding his blade, dragging a folded piece of sandpaper back and forth over it as it remained wedged in a clamp on the work table. He finished and dropped the used sandpaper in the trash before walking over to me. I tried to stay out of their way by sitting on a stool near the doorway. Bear and I had formed an instant connection, and he sat by my feet.

Zach grinned as he shook his head at the dog. "You sure found yourself a furry groupie. Even Jes and I don't get that kind of devotion, and we saved that animal from certain death." "I think it's the eggs I gave him this morning." "Nah, he's smitten, and it wasn't just the eggs. Is the noise in here getting to you yet?" "Not at all. It's fascinating to watch. Both of you are so focused. You make it look so easy. I mean, I know it's not, but you make it look that way." Zach glanced back at Jesse, who was standing at the forge. "Years of practice. Both of us stood in here with our dad when we were just little tots, at first with our plastic toy hammers and then, when Dad thought we could handle it, with the real thing. Both of us managed to catch our thumbs and fingers more than once. But after a few blackened nails, you learn pretty fast that keeping your fingers out of the way saves you a lot of pain." I winced at the thought of it. "I'll bet. I'm feeling lazy just sitting here while you two work. Is there something you need me to do? Something around the house or yard?" Zach looked toward the open door. The last clouds had been pushed away, and the sun poured out of a blue sky. "I think it's going to be cold for a few more nights, and we're out of kindling for the fire. There's still plenty of wood, but if you want to collect up some thin branches and pine cones for kindling, I'm sure Bear will be happy to go with you. Just don't wander into the trees. It gets pretty dark in there, and it's easy to start walking in circles. There's a basket sitting on the hearth you can use to collect it." Coal rattled in the container as Jesse filled the scoop, grabbing our attention for a second. "Or you can stick around here because I've got to tell you, I haven't seen Jesse work this hard in ages." "Glad I could motivate him." I slid off the stool. "But I'd feel better about my time here if I helped out. So I'll go gather some kindling. It's a nice day for a walk." I slipped past him, but before I was clear, Zach took a gentle hold of my hand. It was a gentlemanly grasp, but it was more than just a casual touch. His eyes were deep blue in the dimly lit building. "Hey, Joelle, we are happy to have you here. Both Jes and I are glad to help out, so don't ever feel like you're in the way or freeloading." He released my hand. "Besides, it's nice to see a fresh face around this place. I was getting damn tired of looking at Jesse's ugly mug every day with nothing to break it up." I pushed my hair back behind my ears and nodded. "I promise not to feel like I'm in the way, unless I am in the way. Then please just tell me. I won't be offended." A small laugh followed. "I've had to grow a pretty hard shell in these past few years." "I'm sorry to hear that. You aren't the kind of person who should ever have to endure anything that requires a hard shell. The guy was a dick."

My throat was too tight to respond. I nodded and waved to Jesse as I walked out. I headed across the yard. Bear sat on the back stoop as I hurried inside to get the basket. I picked it up and headed back out. There were no fences around the property, only a lush forest that ran along the entire back end of the yard. The basket swung from my hand as Bear and I hiked toward the trees. As we drew closer, Bear stood with his ears pricked toward the trees. A low growl followed. Something large was moving through the branches, crunching the forest floor litter as it moved. Bear's sharp bark startled me, and I back up several steps as tree branches moved. The front tire of a bicycle popped through, and the rest of the bike quickly followed, along with a tall man with short brown hair and heavy beard stubble running along his jaw. We stared at each other for a moment. Then he flashed a nice smile. "You must be Joelle." "Sundance?" "In the flesh. And I just want to say that anything Zach and Jesse have told you about me is only partially true." He rolled his bike closer, It took a moment before Bear decided it was all right for the man to approach me. Sundance nodded politely at the dog. "Bear. Always a pleasure to see you and those gnarly fangs. I see he has taken to you quickly." I patted Bear's head. "Yes, we seem to have some inner dialogue going on between us. I think we've both had some of the same experiences. Did you ride through the forest?" He patted his bike seat. "Yeah, there's a patchy trail that leads from the back of my dad's property to the Coltrane property. It wasn't put there by nature but by years of Zach, Jes and me riding back and forth to each other's houses." He looked down toward the shop. "I can hear they're hard at work. I came by to lure them away from their anvils to go mountain biking." "Ah, I see. By the way, your sister is the closest thing to an angel on earth." Sundance followed that statement with a sibling laugh. "As a younger brother, who has been on the receiving end of her painful pinches and kicks under the dinner table, I don't quite share that opinion. But Sherry's always generous, and she gives me free tattoos. So I guess I can see how the angel comparison works." "Well, it's been nice talking to you. Bear and I are on a hunt for kindling." He leaned his bike against a tree. "I can help you with that. If you don't mind." "Not at all." We traveled along the border of trees, and I stooped down to gather some thin, slightly sticky branches. I placed them in the basket just as Sundance walked over holding up the hem of his shirt. The fabric was stretched heavy with pine cones. He rolled them into the basket. I pushed up to standing. Sundance was nearly as tall and broad as Zach and Jesse. Something in his mannerisms made it clear that he spent a lot of time with them. I could almost imagine the three of them, hanging out as teens and getting into every type of trouble. Just like Sherry had said. It was easy to understand how

the three of them had managed to break their share of hearts in town. Sundance had a crooked smile that went perfectly with the glint of mischief in his green eyes. That sparkling green gaze seemed to be giving me a long once over now. "Boy, Jesse wasn't over-exaggerating." He said the words in a manner that made it seem he was talking to himself, and that he hadn't really meant to say them out loud. "How's that?" I continued on into the trees and he followed. Bear stayed by my side, and I was beginning to wish I'd had a dog just like him during the last few years. "Oh, nothing. Jesse just mentioned that you were—" He stopped. "I'll just seal my mouth shut, so I don't get myself in trouble. Just know, it was all good stuff. Hey, I hear you might work for my sister." He'd jumped on a new topic. "Yes, she offered me a position. Like I said, she's an angel." I scooped up some thin reedy twigs and dropped them in the basket. "Then you'll stick around? Tanglewood moves kind of slow, but it's not too bad once you get used to it." He tossed some more kindling into the basket and took hold of the handle. "I never expected to find a place like this. I was so desperate to leave behind my old life, I jumped on the boxcar without a plan. I had no idea where I'd end up, but this place feels right. Maybe it was fate." "Or maybe it's because this is the place the freight train stops before cutting through the mountain pass," he added. "That did help persuade me to get off the train. That, along with the engineer inspecting the train and my extreme need for a bathroom. I'm afraid my short lived career as a rail rider ended almost as soon as it began." "Well, I'm glad you found this town. And you're right. It might just have been fate that brought you here." He lifted the basket. "Don't think this will hold much more." We walked back to his bike, and I took hold of the basket. Bear and I walked with Sundance back to the shop. Zach had his back turned to the door, his hearing drowned out by the buzz of what he'd told me was a belt sander. Jesse looked up from the table where he was hand sanding his knife. "Hey, Sundance, I see you met our guest." Jesse put down the sandpaper and wiped his hands on his jeans as he approached us. "Thought you were working all day." "Nope, I'm waiting for the stain to dry on the saddle, so I thought I'd see if I could talk you guys or one of you into a bike ride." Jesse reached back and pulled out the piece of leather holding his long hair back. "You know it doesn't take much to talk me out of work." He looked back over his shoulder and let out a loud whistle. Zach glanced back from the machine and turned it off when he saw the three of us standing in the doorway. "Want to go race bikes?" Jesse called. He didn't wait for Zach's answer and

turned to me. "You should come too. The trail has a great view of the valley." "Sounds great. Did you want me to make some sandwiches to take along?" Zach joined us at the door. "Come on, boss," Jesse said. "We both got a lot done today, and Joelle is going to make sandwiches." Zach raked his hair back with his fingers. "Yeah, guess I could use a break too." "I'll head over to the house then. Nice meeting you, Sundance." I walked out of the shop. Halfway across, I got the feeling that there were three pairs of eyes watching me. I swung back around, and the three guys, nonchalantly, turned this way and that, pretending that they hadn't been watching. It was so damn cute and comical, I couldn't stop a smile. As I spun back around Sundance called to me. "Oh, hey, Joelle, if you've got enough, I'll take a sandwich too. But no mustard." "Caveman," I heard Zach mutter behind me. I stopped at the front steps and looked back at the three of them. "Like I said, I must have been born at the wrong damn time in history."

12 ZACH

he short rainstorm from the night before had carved up a deep gulley in my T usual line on the trail. It was always risky taking a different line. If I stuck to the

same tire path all the way down, there were less surprises. The changes in the trail had slowed me down, but Jesse seemed determined to throw dirt in my face. His tire drifted sideways and spit a thin rooster tail of mud my direction. We were always competitive, but today was meant to be a casual ride, a workout ride. Only somewhere on the way down, it had become a race, a tense race. Sundance had gotten a flat tire early on and he'd pushed his bike down to the truck to fix it, leaving Jesse and I alone on the trail. I lifted off and got enough air to catch up to Jesse's back tire. My jaw was clenched in determination. I wanted to pass him. We reached Deadman's Gulch. Jesse cleared it, and I came down right behind him. The trail widened just below the gulch. It was my chance to pass him. I pedaled fast and my front wheel came up even with his back tire. He glanced back over his shoulder and poured it on. I stayed on him, even as the trail narrowed and curved into a copse of trees. I could see the angry tension in Jesse's shoulders as he leaned down over the handlebars. I pushed my feet down hard on the pedals and tried to skim past him. He turned his front tire sharply. I pulled my tire out to miss him, a move that pushed my body directly into the path of sharp tree branches. One managed to rip my shirt and gouge a nice slice in my side. It stung instantly from the tree sap. I gritted my teeth against the pain, now more determined than ever to ride past Jesse. A bad rut caused Jesse to hesitate and I flew past. The last section of trail was clear of trees. From that point it was a fast downhill race to the bottom. With nothing to slow us, we both flew down the incline as if we were being chased by a fast moving avalanche. Warm blood trickled down my side as I gripped my handlebars and headed toward the truck. Sundance was standing alone, leaned against the side of his truck with his arms crossed and a puzzled look on his face. I slowed down my pace. I was done with this. Apparently, my brother and I had flipped back to our teenage show off years, where we went out of our way to impress girls.

I stopped my bike and pulled off my helmet. Jesse did the same. Sundance pushed off the truck. "Didn't know you two were going to push this into a race." I glanced back at Jesse, who was just pulling off his helmet. "Me neither." I was pissed at myself for acting like an idiot, but I was more pissed at Jesse. I pointed to the ripped shirt and the spreading blood stain. "Look what you did, asshole." "Hey, you did that to yourself. You know that part of the trail isn't wide enough for two bikes." "Yeah, well fuck you anyway. This was supposed to be a workout not a full out brawl." "Far as I could tell, you were the one who turned it into a brawl." Jesse walked to the back of the truck and dropped his gear in the duffle bag. "Where's Joelle? Did she take a walk?" The fact that the pretty girl we were trying to impress wasn't even around to impress made the whole thing pretty comical. What a couple of idiots. I was so busy chiding myself, I hadn't noticed the grin on Sundance's face as he stared up the hill. A laugh rolled down toward us. Joelle was heading down the smooth part of the hillside on Sundance's bike. Her face was nearly split in two with a smile as her long hair flowed behind her. "Why the fuck didn't you give her a helmet?" I asked. "She said she didn't want one." The three of us watched as she rode down the hill on the bike at a fairly impressive speed. Jesse and I both stepped forward with worry when the front tire wobbled, and it looked like she might fall. But she righted herself. "She's good. And fucking adorable," Sundance added as he looked at each of us. "Damn, my sister and her creepy sixth sense." He shook his head. "Guess this explains that mad dog race down the hill just now." He motioned toward the cut on my side. "Are you going to take care of that before you climb into my truck?" I yanked off my shirt, wadded it up and held it against my side to stop the bleeding. Jesse sat in the passenger seat, facing out, with the door open while he chugged down a bottle of water. "What the hell are you rambling about with Sherry's sixth sense?" Sundance shrugged. "Not sure if you two want to hear about it." "You're right. We don't. Now throw me a bottle of water." I hopped up onto the open tailgate of the truck, not an easy feat with a cut in my side. "Maybe Zach doesn't want to hear about it but I do," Jesse said. Sundance fished out a bottle of water from the ice chest and tossed it my way. I twisted off the top and gulped it down. Joelle was halfway down the hill, still having a helluva good time and looking hot doing it. "Well, what did Sherry say?" Jesse climbed down from the passenger seat. Sundance hesitated and looked sideways at me. I had a pretty good idea what

was about to come out of his mouth. Jesse hadn't caught on yet. "Sherry told me she's worried about the heartbreak brothers and their new house guest." Jesse raised one brow. "And why the hell is that? Neither of us is going to break her heart. She's already been through enough." "Well, it's not that she's worried about Joelle's heart being broken as much as yours." Jesse pointed to his chest. "Who me?" Sundance took another cautious look my direction. The cut on my side gave him more courage than usual. "Not just you, Jes. Both of you. And after spending some time with her and seeing you two behaving like strutting roosters, I think my sister's on to something." "Sherry's been spending too much time around ink fumes," Jesse said with just enough anger to produce a smug grin on Sundance's face. He knew he'd hit a sore spot with my brother. I gave him no reaction but then I’d already known exactly what he was going to say. Joelle's voice popped us out of the heated moment. "That was a blast," she said with a laugh. "I would do it again if I could figure out a way to ride downhill without the grueling ride up." "Yeah, we've joked about building a tram or lift just for that purpose." Jesse, ever the gallant knight, walked over and held the bike for her while she climbed off. "Want some water?" Sundance asked. "Yes, please. I think I've got pieces of gravel between my teeth." She took the bottle from Sundance's hand, and after a second or two of struggling to open it, Jesse stepped forward with another show of chivalry. He was really working it today. Silence followed as the three of us worked hard not to watch her press the bottle against her lips and lift her chin, exposing the smooth white skin of her neck as she drank the water. She lowered the bottle with a sigh of relief. Her eyes flitted my direction. "You're awfully quiet, Zach." Her gaze drifted down to the hand I held against my side. "Is that blood? What happened?" "Nothing. Just got hooked up on a branch." She walked over to me. "Let me see? Did you wash it out?" "Nope, just trying to stop the blood first." "You might need stitches." Sundance came around to get a better look at the cut, but Jesse stayed away. I lifted away the shirt. Joelle leaned forward. I had a bloody gash on my side, and all I could think about was how good her hair smelled. Her warm breath caressed my bare skin as she moved in closer. I was already feeling way less pain. "We need to clean that off." She straightened. "Do you have something in the truck, Sundance?" "Yeah, there's a first aid box under the passenger seat."

Joelle set right to work gathering supplies. Sundance winced as he got a better look at the cut. "Ouch, that looks ugly. It's all mucked up, so I can't tell if it needs stitches." Sundance, apparently thinking he'd given enough of his unqualified opinion, walked away. "Hey, Jes, one more ride up the hill?" he asked. Jesse paused as he watched Joelle lean into the car, completely unaware of the effect she was having on him. Sundance elbowed him as they both watched her dig the box out. "Ah ha, here it is." She pulled the sweater down, the sweater that had, in her search below the seats, inched up, exposing her thin waist and the tops of her curvy hips. She stopped at the ice chest and pulled out a clean bottle of water. As she straightened, she, for the first time, noticed that she had everyone's undivided attention. Her long lashes blinked coyly and a tiny smile popped up. "Hope y'all got a good look at my ass." I held back a laugh. Sundance looked away quickly as if that obvious gesture could help him save face. Jesse, as usual, had a different tack. "We did. And I can't speak for these guys, but it was definitely the highlight of my day." Sundance swung his fist back to hit Jesse on the arm. "Christ, Jes." "No, I like his honesty." Joelle held up some gauze and the water. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some doctoring to do." Jesse shot me a squinty eyed look. "Beginning to think you snagged that branch on purpose." "Yep, the tree and I planned the whole damn thing out beforehand." Joelle circled around to where I was sitting on the tailgate, with the same sweet smile she wore most of the day. She put the package of gauze down and untwisted the bottle cap. "You're going to have to take your hand and that balled up shirt away so I can clean the cut." I pulled away the wadded shirt and lifted my arm away from the cut. Jesse walked to his bike. "C'mon Sun, I think I need that ride after all." I vaguely heard them climb on their bikes and take off up the trail, but my mind had other things keeping it occupied. Joelle bit her bottom lip in concentration as she used the wet cloth to gently wipe away the dirt and blood. "Does this hurt?" I badly wanted to answer 'not in the way you think', but I held back the suggestive words. "It feels better already. You're a good doctor." "I hardly think I can take credit for that when all I've done is wipe it with a wet cloth." A long strand of hair fell over her face as she worked. I reached up and pushed it back behind her ear. My fingertips trailed lightly over the soft skin behind her ear, and I wondered if the entire girl was as silky soft as that small patch of skin. I knew, of course, I shouldn't have been thinking about the rest of her skin at all, and, for that matter, how it would feel under my fingers, but I couldn't help myself.

The gentleness of her caring touch coupled with the face and the smile and that warm glow that seemed to always be swirling around her made it easy to forget the cut on my side. "So did you enjoy the bike ride?" "I did." She straightened, and I spotted the fading red mark on her neck. It would soon be gone. I hoped every shitty thing that guy did to her would eventually be pushed far back in her memory. She tilted her head to admire her first aid work. "I used to ride a bike back and forth from work. A bike and my feet were my only modes of transportation. I once had a reliable car, a crummy little compact with faded paint and mismatched hubcaps. But one night, after losing a lot of money at poker, Bobby wrapped my car around a light pole. He was unhurt, but my sad little Toyota with the ripped upholstery and impressively good heater was mangled beyond repair. His jeep, gleaming in black and chrome, still sat safely in the garage, but my car had to be sandwiched into a pile of scrap metal at the junkyard." She piled up the dirty gauze and pulled out a clean piece, along with a plastic bottle of disinfectant. "I'm sorry." "Actually, once I got used to it, I sort of preferred the bicycle. You miss a lot when you're chugging through traffic." "No, I meant I'm sorry that you had to waste even one minute of your life with that guy." Her smile faded, but there was still a brilliant, coffee-colored sparkle in her eyes. "I spent a long time feeling sorry for myself. After that, I went through the— you deserve this because you're a knucklehead and you make bad decisions stage. Then one day, I just stopped blaming myself. It was pointless. It was all his fault. Everything was on him." She popped off the top from the disinfectant and crinkled her nose up at the smell. "Wonder if this stuff is still good?" I took a whiff. "I think it's mostly alcohol, and they say that booze gets better with age." She laughed. "Uh, I think that pertains more to whiskey in an oak barrel than to antiseptic in a plastic bottle." "Shit, wish Sundance had some of that aged whiskey in his first aid kit. A swig of that would go down pretty smoothly right now." "I can look again, but I'm pretty sure we're stuck with this stuff. But if you still want a swig." She held up the bottle. "No thanks, I'll pass." Joelle spilled some of the dark yellow liquid on the gauze and pulled out some bandages. "I'm going to press this against the cut, so it might sting." "K. I'll try not to cry." Shit, was there any sound better than her laugh. She pressed the gauze against my side and then reached across and took hold of my wrist. I couldn't stop myself from staring at her as she focused on her task. Her face was just inches from mine, and every curve and line of her mouth became a permanent picture in my mind.

"Here, hold the gauze in place while I open the bandages." She glanced back at the hill as she ripped open a few bandages. A dust cloud at the top signaled that Sundance and Jesse were on their way down. "That trail you guys race down looks treacherous. I guess it's considered a victory if you get down that hill with just a cut on your side." As she spoke, my mind glazed over with the feel of her fingers on my skin as she pressed the bandages in place. She patted her work. "There. I think other than the damage to one scary looking lion tattoo, crisis averted." "Leo's hurt?" I lifted my arm and contorted my upper torso to get a look at my side. "Shit, I didn't even think about that." "I think Leo might end up with a menacing scar across his eye, which will only serve to make him more badass." Sundance and Jesse were close enough for us to hear the rocks and forest litter crunch under their tires. "Thank you, Joelle." She took hold of my face, hopped up on her toes and pressed a kiss against my forehead. "Glad I could help." She dropped back to her feet. I was relieved she had no way to hear how fast my heart was bouncing off my ribcage.

13 JOELLE

"C heck out this nail polish color." Sherry pinched the cone-shaped silver top in

her fingers and held up the bottle. "It's called Forest Mist. I think it should be called Baby Snot." "It isn't very appealing." "They sent six bottles in the last shipment. I think I'll return them, or do you think someone will buy it?" I shrugged. "Different strokes, as they say." "You're right. Who am I to judge if someone has godawful taste. I'll let you finish marking off the shipment list. I left the invoice next to the box. I'm going to take a quick jaunt to the coffee shop." "Great. I'll head back there right now and keep an ear open for the bell." Sherry walked into her office and emerged with her wallet. "This is working out well. I never got to enjoy a coffee break or any kind of break when I was running the shop alone. Heck, it seemed whenever I had to take a pee, that was the time everyone in town was in dire need of hair color or a flat iron." She held up the wallet. "Do you want something? My treat." "An iced tea would be nice." The bell on the front door rang as she walked out. It was my third day on the job, and I had no complaints. In fact, I would occasionally pinch myself to make sure it was real. Sherry's shop was a rectangular building with purple awnings over the front window, shiny white tile on the floor and a mural of a flower filled garden running along the back wall. Sherry had painted it herself. The peonies and poppies looked so real, I could have sworn that they occasionally swayed in an imaginary breeze. A shiny chrome and glass counter divided the room in half, between her tattoo parlor and her beauty supply store. As small as the town was, there was a steady stream of customers coming through the shop at all hours of the day. Especially after three o'clock when the nearby high school let out for the day and the girls and even boys came in to buy the newest hair product or nail color. I pulled out my phone. Jesse had sent a text that he would pick me up at four. Zach and Jesse had bought the phone the day before I started work, insisting that I had to have one. That same day, I started a list of the things they bought me. I

intended to pay them back once I started earning a wage. They had tried to fight me on it, but I stood my ground. As it was, I saw no way I could ever repay them for their kindness. I walked to the back and started unpacking the box of supplies. A few minutes later, Sherry returned with the drinks. "That was fast." I checked off foam curlers. "I got there before school let out. I sure would love to know how those teenagers have so much extra money that they can stop in and buy four dollar frothy coffees every day. Shit, when I was in high school, I had to save just buy a damn soda from the vending machine." She placed the tea on the table and pulled up a chair. "Damn, I sound like my mom." She aged her voice by making it raspy and added a fist shake in the air. "You whippersnappers shouldn't be wasting all that money on coffee, and why the hell are you drinking coffee at your age anyhow?" I clapped at her performance, and she bowed her head. "Thank you. And by the way, my mom doesn't sound like that and I've never actually heard her say the word whippersnapper. Whippersnapper. Huh." She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. "I just told Anthony I had a name for our kid, if we ever decide to have one." Sherry pulled up a stool and enjoyed her coffee while I finished unpacking the order. "So, how is it going over there with the Coltrane boys? Have they been treating you right?" "They are awesome. After the last few years with Bobby, I'd almost given up hope that there were still decent guys out in the world." "Yeah, it's hard not to love those two." I searched the list for lip balm and as my pen ran along the check boxes, I was keenly aware of Sherry watching me, as if she wanted to ask something but couldn't find a way to do it. But I had caught her assessing gaze more than once, as if she was trying to figure out exactly how it was going with the Coltrane boys. "They are both so different," I continued. "Aha, there you are lip balm." I checked the box and looked up at her. "When I'm with Zach, I want to pour my heart out. I want to untangle my emotional turmoil and tell him everything. He's such a good listener, and he just seems to understand. And he never judges. It's rare for a guy to be like that." "Zach's a great guy. He's highly respected in town. He has a slew of female admirers, but I've only ever seen him give his heart away once." It seemed Sherry was adding information, details about Zach I already knew, just to make doubly sure I knew everything about him. I couldn't tell if it was a warning for me or out of protection for Zach. I picked up my tea and took a sip. I held it up. "Thanks for this." I put the cup back down. "Then there's Jesse. When I'm with him, I can easily forget my emotional turmoil, my ugly past. When I'm hanging out with him, I find myself wanting to experience life through his rose colored glasses. He faces everything with enthusiasm and a laugh, like he's telling the world nothing is going to get me

down. It's fun. He's fun. And if there has been one thing I've missed these past few years, it's fun." Sherry grew quiet for a minute. It seemed that if she'd allow herself to speak her mind, it would start flowing and never stop. But she smiled and nodded. "They are good guys and loyal friends and even though it may not always seem like it, they are fiercely loyal to each other." With that she smacked her palm on the table and hopped off the stool. "I've got to get ready for a tattoo client." She looked up at the clock on the wall. It was the old-fashioned kind, an analog with two arms, like the ones that hung in classrooms. "It's almost three and the afterschool rush will be starting. They always seem to know when the new shipment of nail and lip color comes in. Who knows, we might just off load that baby snot after all." "You might be right." I followed her out to the shop, and just like she'd predicted, minutes later the beauty supply side of the store filled with chatty teens. The displays I'd work so hard to organize were a cluttered mess by the time they finished checking out the new colors. Baby snot, it turned out, was not on their list of cool new colors, but they picked clean all the new pinks and blues. Even lemon yellow was popular. I stayed behind the counter ringing up orders and thought, Sherry was right. I'd never had extra money for fun stuff like nail polish and lipstick. So many people had been strolling in and out of the store, I didn't look up when the bell rang for the hundredth time. The two girls standing at the counter, debating what color hair bands to buy, stopped their conversation. "Look, it's Jesse Coltrane," the girl in favor of blue hair bands whispered. "Oh my gosh, is he hot. Why don't we have any guys like him in school?" I peered up over the register and caught Jesse's smile shooting across the busy room. "My sister, Kate, graduated with him," the girl in favor of green hair bands whispered. "He took her to a dance in junior high. Jesse Coltrane was her first kiss." "That would suck to have him give you a first kiss," the first girl insisted. "Every kiss after that would be a disappointment." I actually had to join them in the laugh that followed. One step into the store and Jesse had managed to render every enthusiastic conversation and giggle to a halt. Girls were peeking up over shelves and around displays to get a look at him. Two were even taking pictures with their phones. Jesse made his way up to the counter with a sea of round eyes following him. He nodded politely at the two girls at the counter. "How's Kate?" he asked. The girl nearly fell over with her heavy backpack. "Uh, she's good. She's working in a law office on the east coast." "Figures. She was always the smartest person in class. Tell her Jesse says hi." "Uh huh, I will." They both stared up at him. I had to rattle the bag to get their attention. They grabbed their goods and walked away from the counter. Jesse turned and

drummed a quick beat on the counter. "I had to pick up some things at the hardware store, so I'm early. Will your tyrannical boss let you off?" "I heard that," Sherry called from her side of the room where she was pouring ink into tiny cups. "Sorry," he called back, "Guess those big ears serve a purpose after all." "I'm off the clock in ten minutes, and I need to finish checking out the customers." I glanced around the shop. Jesse's presence had definitely upset the balance in the store. "I think they'd decide faster if the famous Jesse Coltrane wasn't standing in the center of the displays blinding them with his brightness." Jesse looked behind him and nodded to a bunch of admirers, who had huddled near the shampoos and conditioners to get a better look. He turned back to me. "I'll go over to Sherry's side and see if I can irritate her for a few minutes." He walked past and dragged the awe-filled gazes with him as he crossed the store. With him gone, the late afternoon customers, with their strawberry smelling gum, overstuffed backpacks and i-pods, finished browsing. A few more purchases were made before they shuffled out of the store. I quickly straightened up the displays so they'd be ready for the morning. Jesse emerged a few minutes later from Sherry's side of the store. I went into the office and grabbed the leather satchel Sundance had made for me. "I'll see you in the morning, Sherry." "Sounds good. Have a good night." Jesse held the door for me, and I slipped out onto the sidewalk. He caught up to me. "Thanks so much for the ride. In a few weeks I'll have enough to buy a bicycle. Sherry actually knows someone who has a mountain bike for sale. Then I can ride it to work and stop bugging you guys." "I don't mind picking you up and neither does Zach. And I don't know about you riding on the mountain roads on a bike." "I'll be fine. I used to ride a bike around all the time." I touched his arm, and he looked at me. "But it's nice to have someone worry." "It's equally nice to have someone to worry about. I guess the job is working out pretty well." "It is. Every so often I have to convince myself this is real." "Why is that?" We stopped at his car, and he opened the door for me. I turned to face him. He was always a vision up close. The high school girls had it right. Jesse Coltrane was hot. "It's just that I'm not used to things going so smoothly. In fact, to use a term a bladesmith might use, serrated is more like it. Sharp and rough, that's how the last few years have been." He waved me onto the seat and then hooked his hands on the top edge of the car as he hung his head inside. "Then maybe you should start getting used to smooth." He shut the door.

14 JESSE

I was doing it, but I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't stop pulling my eyes I knew from the road to catch another glimpse of my passenger. She'd pulled the

front strands of hair back off her face and tied them off with one of the leather straps I used to tie back my hair when I worked. It was stupid, but just like the night when she was wearing my coat and then my shirt, I loved seeing her wear something of mine. Spring was bringing back flowers and the smell of new pine. Tanglewood had finally thawed out from a deep winter freeze. I, for one, was always glad to see spring, and summer was even better. "Every Friday is ladies' night at Petty Thief if you're interested. Dollar beers for the women and it's amateur night on stage. Anyone who wants to sing can get up and belt out a tune. And I was thinking since you—" "I don't know about that, Jesse. I guess it depends on how many dollar beers I drink. Singing for money on a street corner is different than singing for a captive audience." "Sometimes Jason Petty, the owner, will give free beer for a month to the best singer of the night. Unless everyone sucks, which happens most of the time. At least think about it for the cheap beer. Zach and Sundance will probably go too. Of course, maybe you'd prefer to have the house to yourself for a change." "Free beer for a month probably won't be enough of an incentive for me to look past stage fright, but I'll give it some thought." I stopped the car at an intersection and waited while Martin Potter's kid brother crossed the street with what looked like a sack of marbles. He passed in front of us, tripped on a crack and the sack fell to the ground. Shiny marbles of every size and color escaped and went rolling like rushing water down the street. I laughed. "Shit that brings back memories. When I was in fifth grade, the teachers decided we could bring marbles to school to play at recess. I think they did it because we got in a lot less trouble shooting marbles. I had my coffee can of marbles sitting on my desk during a math test. The class was dead silent, except for the sound of erasers scratching papers in frustration. I shifted in my seat, and my knee hit the desk. I could never fit in those stupid desks. The can fell and marbles

rolled all over the tile floor. I was one principal's trip away from losing my x-box for a month, and I was sure that was where I was heading. But the teacher laughed. Of course, marbles were banned after that and I had to live with the scorn of my classmates for weeks. But at least I had an x-box to play with while my buddies got over hating me." "Did you get all the marbles back?" "Most of them but my awesome silver shooter marble mysteriously disappeared. I'm pretty sure it was this kid named George. I would have confronted him about it, but that would have earned me a trip to the principal for sure." Joelle looked through the windshield. Potter's bright red hair puffed in the breeze as he chased after the marbles. The shape and slant of the street were pulling a lot of them toward the gutter. I glanced over at Joelle, and it seemed we had the same thought. I threw my car in gear and pulled it over. Joelle and I hopped out and raced toward the runaway marbles. I was a star soccer player and on every sports team in high school, but Joelle had no problem keeping up with me as we ran toward the gutter. Little Potter was already bawling about the marble tragedy and his seemingly hopeless efforts to retrieve them all. As fast as we were at running, we were no match for smooth glass balls and the gravity of a downhill slope. Joelle was laughing wildly as we danced around the marbles trying not to fall on them, and, at the same time, trying to stop their progress. The slope of the street was acting like a funnel and sucking everything toward one destination. "We need to stop them at the gutter," I suggested. "Good thinking." I reached the deep gutter that swept debris down to the ocean. I long jumped forward and shoved my big foot in front of the opening. My shoe was like a rubber edged damn for the flow of marbles. Joelle laughed as she stooped down and worked hard to grab them before they rolled up and over my foot. I crouched down next to her. Her face was right next to mine, and suddenly, marble collecting was the last thing on my mind. I wanted to kiss her. Badly. But I didn't. Somehow, Zach and I had made this unspoken promise through nothing more than brotherly vibes that Joelle was off limits. She'd gone through something terrible with the asshole she left behind, and she was vulnerable. The hurt was still fresh and raw, and her heart was still unprotected. Neither of us wanted to take advantage of that. But as the days went on, it was harder and harder to deny that I was being pulled toward her. I'd never felt so strongly about any woman, and I was starting to feel pretty damn raw and unprotected myself. I sensed some of the same anguish coming from Zach. While he never talked about it or showed his feelings, like I tended to do, I knew he was feeling the same frustration. And that added a whole other dimension to everything. It was almost too complicated to talk or think about, so the three of us went on,

casually and happily, like three friends living in the same house, sharing chores and food. Just three roommates—only one was my brother and my only family and one was a woman who I was quickly falling hard for. But I couldn't talk about it with my brother because I was pretty fucking sure he was falling just as hard. We'd done our best with the marble round up. There had been at least a dozen casualties, but by the time teary eyed Potter reached the gutter, both Joelle and I had filled our hands and the bottom halves of our shirts with marbles. Joelle held up a bright blue shooter. It had a swirl of gold running through it. Potter's round cheeks bunched up with a smile. "You got it." He took it from Joelle's fingers and kissed it. "This is my lucky shooter." Joelle nodded. "I thought it might be. It's very cool." "Thanks." The line of freckles on his nose darkened as he crinkled it up and looked up at the beautiful woman holding his marbles in her sweater. His blue eyes moved to me. "Hey, you're Jesse Coltrane, aren't ya?" "I am. And you're a Potter. I know your brother, Martin." "Yep, that's my brother. I'm Tyler." I stepped toward him. "Well, Tyler, hold up that sack." He opened the drawstring, and his chubby fingers widened the opening. I poured in the marbles, and Joelle did the same. "Thanks," he said as he rubbed his nose with his free hand. He turned to walk away but stopped after a few steps. "Hey, Jesse"—he swung his hand as if he'd touched something hot—"I like your girlfriend." He turned around and ran off with his sack of marbles. "Smart kid." I motioned toward the car. "I think we've done our good deed for the day." "I think so." Joelle shucked me on the arm. "You're a pretty fast runner. You almost had me beat. Of course, I wasn't really trying." I stopped. It took her a few steps to notice. She looked back with a teasing smile. "Is that a challenge?" Her smile exploded and she turned around and raced back toward the car. I was on her heels, but I had to pour it on to keep up with her. A few yards from the car, she heard my footsteps pound the asphalt behind her and she squealed as I closed in on her. I grabbed her arm and spun her around just as she touched the car. Earlier, I'd thought about the kiss, but this time it wasn't planned. It was all I could tell myself because I knew the second I'd pulled her around to face me that I was going to kiss her. I took hold of both her arms and her lips parted with anticipation as I pressed my mouth against hers. If the reaction had been different, if she'd stiffened in my arms or pulled her face away, I would have dropped my hold on her and walked away properly chastised and ashamed. But she melted against me and curled her arms around my neck as my arms went around her body. Cars swept past, and one even honked as we stood against the car and kissed. A whistle cracked the air and our mouths parted. I looked back over my

shoulder. Tyler Potter was giving me the thumbs up. Joelle laughed softly. She looked up at me with something that could have been admiration or it could have been confusion. My head and body were still thinking about the kiss, so it was hard to tell. Reluctantly, I lowered my arms. "I'd apologize for that, Joelle. Only, I'm not sorry." She pushed a strand of hair off my face. "Lolly used to always tell me that some things deserved an apology and some things just deserved to happen. I'm not sorry either, Jesse." We climbed into the car. She reached forward and turned up the music. We drove home without another mention of the kiss.

15 JOELLE

into the fragrant steam wafting off the pot of strawberry preserves. I'd I leaned cashed my first paycheck and gone straight to the grocery store, deciding it

was time for me to begin to repay Zach and Jesse. The strawberry display, with bright red fruit bursting out of green baskets, drew me across the store like a magnet. Lolly always called strawberries the first sign of spring, and she always made strawberry preserves to put on our toast. It was sugary heaven on bread. As I picked up the wooden spoon and stirred the berries in their syrup bath, it took my mind back to Lolly again. One day, I'd come home distraught that my best friend, Cindy, had accused me of trying to steal her boyfriend, Oliver. I'd occasionally talked to Oliver and once or twice we had laughed about something together in class, but I'd never thought of him as anything but Cindy's boyfriend. That day, Lolly told me I could stir a pot without a spoon and without even knowing I was stirring it. In my state of anguish, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what the heck she was talking about. But then one day Oliver approached me at my locker and as he neared me, he brushed his fingers over my hand. It wasn't an accidental brush. Lolly's words came clear in my head. I kept my distance from him after that, and Cindy and I never regained our friendship. A motor started, pulling my attention to the window. Jesse's car lights lit up the driveway as he drove out of the yard. Daylight was melting into twilight, but Zach was still busy working in the shop. The sputtering glow of the forge shot sporadic light across the yard. It had been three days since Jesse's kiss. When he took hold of me, I knew a kiss was coming, but I didn't discourage him. The opposite in fact. I could have melted into his arms and kissed him for hours. I tried hard to work up some feelings of regret or anger at myself for enjoying it, but it wasn't in me. I didn't regret it. Sometimes, if I let myself think about it too hard, my life here with the brothers felt confusing and tenuous, as if things could get wildly out of control if I let them. If we let them. But for now, the three of us went about our lives, growing closer in friendship with each passing day. Occasionally Jesse would touch me when the moment hadn't really called for it, even brushing up behind me when I was doing something at the stove, or sitting close enough on the couch for our shoulders to

touch. And there was no way to not feel the heat between us when it happened. But the same thing happened with Zach. He would find reasons to touch me, or brush up against me, and the same heat radiated between us. Bobby had starved me of affection for so long and he'd destroyed my self worth so badly, I worried that I was making up for it now. I had two men in my life who made me feel happy and safe and, above all else, worth something. They were both protective and a little possessive of me, but it was a shared possession. I couldn't explain anything that was happening, but I knew I felt content. I felt wanted, and I hadn't felt that in a long time. I opened the box of mason jars. I'd dug around in the kitchen cupboards looking for something to put strawberry preserves in and had been lucky enough to stumble upon an unopened box of mason jars. Someone, I assumed Zach and Jesse's mom, had taped canning instructions to the top of the box. I could only conclude that she'd planned to do some canning, but that she never actually got to it. I pulled out a jar and untwisted the two piece lid. Zach was walking across the yard. He'd taken off his apron and was stripped down to just his undershirt. It was the sleeveless tank style, and his tattoos stood out in heavy contrast against the stark white cotton fabric. My attention was stolen from my task for a second as I allowed myself the luxury of watching him walk across the yard, his muscular arms and chest, his steely blue gaze peering out from his handsome face. Heat swirled through my body and warmed my pussy. It was the same sensation I'd had when Jesse kissed me. I had realized then that my physical reactions, my sensual urges had been turned off for so long that I'd nearly forgotten what they felt like. I took a deep breath to shake off the flutters I was feeling as Zach walked inside. The faint scent of smoke and sweat followed him in. They were two scents I never would have thought of as sexy, and yet, on Zach, they turned on every one of my senses as if the combination of smoke and sweat was the world's best aphrodisiac. He walked up behind me, brushing against me as he looked over my shoulder into the pot. "That smells good. Is that strawberries?" "Yes. Lolly's strawberry preserve recipe. And I bought some bread to go with it. We can have it for breakfast." I lifted the wooden spoon and turned to the side. "Here try it, but blow on it first." He moved his mouth closer to the spoon and blew on the hot strawberries. Instead of taking hold of the spoon, his hand rested against my back as he tasted the berries. He left his hand there for longer than necessary. "That's good stuff." "Where did Jesse go?" I asked as I dropped the spoon in the sink. "Sundance was having some problem with his truck, so Jes went over to look at it." "Did he take Bear with him? I haven't seen him for awhile. He's usually right there on his pillow when I'm at the stove."

Zach walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. "Far as I know, Jesse left alone. Bear is probably terrorizing a squirrel in a tree or something. I'm going to take a shower." "All right. I was going to heat that leftover chicken from last night. But first I think I'll go out and look for Bear. It's getting dark." "Uh, he is part wolf, remember. I stopped by the butcher and bought him a big beef bone. I'll bet he's outside burying it." "But he's the only dog in the house. Who the heck is he hiding it from?" Zach had stepped out of the kitchen, but he popped his head back in. "He's hiding it from Jesse." "Jesse steals his beef bone? We need to feed that guy more." Zach laughed. "He likes to tease Bear and pretend he's going to take it. Like any typical third grader." He walked away, and I heard the bathroom door shut. I went to the back door and called for Bear, but he didn't come running. I headed down the back steps and surveyed the yard. Night had fallen fast. There was only a sliver of moon, and the lights from the house and shop didn't provide much illumination for the back of the property. A flicker of movement near the tree line caught my eye. I headed in that direction. I climbed the small incline that led to the forest bordering the property. "Bear!" I followed with a whistle. A weak dog cry answered me back. I hurried toward it. I stopped just short of the first trees. "There you are." Bear was sitting with his ears back and a chastised expression as if he'd just got caught with his paw in the cookie jar. Another weak cry squeaked out. His scared eyes were staring at something in the trees. I followed his line of sight, and my gaze met another pair of eyes. Glowing yellow eyes. The giant cat took a step forward to get a better view of his newest visitor. My pulse pounded in my head as I quickly tried to remember what to do when faced down by a mountain lion. Run? Scream? Act mean? Or just sit and whimper like Bear? With Bear's feral genes, it seemed he knew best. I stood there, still as a statue, trying to look as harmless and meaningless as a speck of dust. It didn't take long for me to realize I'd taken the wrong tack. But it was too late. I was frozen to the spot in terror, even too breathless with fear to scream. Bear stood up and the mountain lion looked toward the dog before refocusing its angry stare back on me. Its tail swept through the air as if it had made a firm decision to lunge at me. I instinctively took a step back and closed my eyes. In my horror, I heard the back door snap shut and a loud roar followed. "Away! Arrgh!" A shirtless, barefoot Zach yelled as raced toward me waving his arms over his head. I stood stock-still watching the entire scene play out as if I was just a spectator and not part of the drama. From the corner of my eye, I saw the mountain lion turn around. Obviously, deciding it didn't want to mess with the crazy, wild beast running toward the trees, the big cat trotted off and disappeared into the forest.

As my body unfroze from its state of terror, a trembling started in my knees and traveled up through the rest of me. Zach took hold of my hand, and I turned into his arms. He held me there in his strong, protective grasp and I hid my face against him, trying to erase the last few minutes. He rubbed my back. "It's gone now. I saw it from the bathroom window." I looked down at his bare feet. "You ran across the rocks and pine needles." My voice wavered. I peered up at him. The worry in his face was just starting to be replaced by relief. "I thought I was going to be a cat's dinner." "Fuck." He pulled me against him again. "I don't know why it came so close to the house. I guess it was that stupid beef bone. It must have smelled raw meat. Bear, go inside." He tightened his arms around me. "You're still shaking." I nodded without lifting my face from the comfort of his warm skin. "Think it might take me a bit before the trembling stops. And the rush of adrenaline. And the abject terror." Zach reached under my chin and lifted my face away from his chest to look at him. His blue eyes stared into mine. He reached up and wiped a tear from my cheek and then before I could take another breath, his hands took hold of my face and he kissed me. One hand migrated around to the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled my mouth tighter against his. I wrapped my arms around his waist and smoothed my palms over his back. His skin felt warm compared to the cool night air. A sound in the trees startled us out of the kiss. Zach moved me to stand behind him as he looked through the trees. "I think it was just a squirrel. Let's go inside. I'll let the ranger know there's a mountain lion in the area." "They won't kill it, will they?" Zach took hold of my hand. "Nah, they'll tranquilize it and drive it higher into the mountains. But you and Bear need to stay closer to the house until that happens." "Yep, don't think that will be a problem." We headed back to the house. Zach stopped in the kitchen and looked at me for a long moment. He didn't say a word. I could still feel his kiss on my lips as he walked out.

16 ZACH

ear had settled down with his bone after the near miss with a mountain lion. I B had no idea what had drawn my attention to the window. I'd turned on the water

and taken off my shirt and shoes. Then, for some damn reason, I wandered to the small bathroom window and looked out. I couldn't remember the last time I'd looked out that small dusty window, but even in the dim light I could see what was happening. I nearly broke off the back door in my rush to get out of the house. I hadn't even remembered that I was bare foot until the rocks and dry pine needles stabbed my feet. All I knew was that I had to get out to Joelle and get between her and the mountain lion. Growing up in Tanglewood had taught me some of the basics of living in a forest habitat, and I knew that when you met up with a mountain lion you made yourself big and menacing. I nearly fell to my knees in relief when the big cat turned around and walked away. And that relief proved to me just how deeply I cared about the pretty coat thief who had stepped into my life, our life. Holding her in my arms, crying and trembling, had pushed any ounce of caution or resistance from my mind. I had to kiss her. There just wasn't any other way for the scene to end other than with me letting her know much I cared about her. Joelle had gone in to take a warm bath, deciding it would soothe her nerves. I grabbed myself another beer, figuring I’d earned it. I raked my wet hair back with my fingers and pulled up a seat at the kitchen table. The bathtub water turned off and her pretty voice echoed off the tiles as she sang. It was something she did a lot and something I would miss if she ever left. She had changed the house completely with her presence. The fragrance of her shampoo, the sound of her singing and laughter, lacy underwear drying in the bathroom, all of it permeated our lives now, and nothing would ever be the same if she left. I could hear her moving in the still water. I closed my eyes and pictured her sitting naked in the steamy bath, running the bar of soap along her silky skin and over the curves of her breasts. There was no way to ignore what was happening in the house. Jesse and I avoided talking about the fact that we were both falling for Joelle. It was too big and complicated to discuss with any rationale. But the sexual tension inside our small,

shabby house was growing well past the century old walls of John James's cabin. At first there had been that layer of conscience, keeping both of us in check, reminding us that she'd stumbled into our lives hoping to find a safe place and a better life. But the longer that Joelle was part of our life, the harder it was to deny what was happening. Sherry had called it right from the start. If only she could also predict how the hell this was supposed to end. "Zach," Joelle called from the bathroom. Still in hyper protective mode, I flew off the chair. I walked to the bathroom door and spoke through the crack. "Everything all right?" "Yes, but I forgot my towel. It's on the chair in my room. If you wouldn't mind." I walked to the room, grabbed the towel and headed back to the bathroom. I knocked. "I've got it." "You can come in, Zach. I don't mind." I paused as I wrapped my hand around the door knob. Then I opened the door. She was sitting in the water with her knees up and her arms wrapped around them, effectively hiding her breasts, breasts that I'd been dreaming about in my sleep. "This bath really helped. As long as that mountain lion doesn't visit me in my dreams tonight, I'll be fine." Her long lashes were clumped in dark spikes, highlighting the brown sugar color of her eyes. I stood over the tub without saying a word. I opened the towel and held it up for her. I could have just dropped it on the hook next to the tub. I could have placed it on the vanity. I could have handed it to her and quickly walked out. But I didn't. Joelle's lips were full and pink with a weak smile. I could still taste them, still sweet from strawberries and sugar. She could have told me just to drop the towel. She could have reached for the towel, still keeping her breasts and her naked body mostly hidden by her long folded legs. She could have shooed me out. But she didn't. The water moved and lapped against the shiny white porcelain as she lowered her arms. She curled her fingers over the edge of the tub and pushed to her feet. I watched as her wet, naked body emerged from the water. Her rose colored nipples puckered in the cool air as she slowly lifted her long leg out of the tub. The other followed and my gaze dropped to her pussy. Every inch of her was exactly as I'd imagined. Fucking perfect. I held my breath as she stepped into the towel. I wrapped it around her and ran my hands over the terry cloth to pat dry her back and shoulders. She stayed perfectly still in my arms, letting me dry her, and I took more than just a little fucking pleasure in doing it. I took the towel off her shoulders, and my mouth dragged along her breast, taking care to taste her nipple on the way down to drying her legs. Her breath was coming in short spurts. She steadied herself by bracing her hands on my shoulders. I could not have stopped my mouth from pressing against her creamy skin any more than I could have stopped taking a breath. I kissed her

flat belly, and as I did, I wrapped my hands around her ass and held her firmly against my mouth. As her soft, erotic moans rained down on my head, my cock grew so hard it nearly split open the fly on my jeans. I continued my trail of kisses to the mound of dark hair. I kissed her pussy lightly and then moved on to her thigh. She parted her legs without me asking. Her fingers dug into my shoulders. She swayed on her feet as I moved my tongue along the inside of her thigh, stopping just before her pussy. I peered up at her, taking in the ethereal beauty of her naked body. Still steadying herself with her hands on my shoulders, she gazed down at me with parted lips and eyes that were glassy from my kisses. "Zach," she said quietly. It was all I needed to hear. My hands stayed firmly grasped around her ass as I stood. The towel fell away as she hooked her arms around my neck. She swung her long legs around me as I lifted her and carried her to the vanity. I let go, temporarily, to smack away the brushes and items on the counter. She gasped and then giggled as her naked bottom hit the cold counter. But the light moment rolled away quickly as I dropped to my knees in front of the vanity and draped her legs over my shoulders. I reached around her bottom again and scooted her closer to the edge to get a clear, sweet view of her pussy. Joelle leaned back on her hands. Her hair cascaded behind her as she dropped her head back. I kissed her inner thigh again, before turning my attention to her pussy. Her scent and the creamy moisture pooling there made me so hard, a groan rolled up from my chest as I anticipated tasting her. I was just about out of my fucking mind with wanting her. This was why Jesse and I hadn't talked about it. We were both so damn crazy about her, we couldn't think straight long enough to reason it out. I spread her thighs with my hands and then parted the hot folds of her pussy. She took an audible breath as I ran my tongue over her swollen clit. I drew it along and pressed my face against her as my tongue dove inside of her, tasting the honey sweet moisture of her pussy. I moved my mouth back to her clit as my fingers impaled her. She cried out and reached forward, tangling her fingers in my hair as she held my face firmly against her. "Zach, please," she said in a breathy whisper that went straight to my cock and stayed there in a tight grip. My fingers, slick with her hot cream, pushed deeper inside, fucking her, while my mouth and tongue covered her clit with warm, intense friction. Her long legs gripped me, and she writhed against my mouth, silently begging for more. And I was happy to give it. I could have stayed there devouring her pussy all fucking night. I could feel her body tense as I kept my mouth firmly pressed against her. Her fingers pulled my hair and short raspy breaths puffed from her lips. "Oh, Zach,"

she whimpered as her body shuddered and she came against my mouth. I stayed there, tucked between her thighs, gently kissing her as the waves of pleasure subsided. Her legs relaxed over my shoulders. Her fingers untangled from my hair, and she smoothed her palms over my head. This was over for tonight. I'd made her come, I'd let her know that I would do anything for her, anything to keep her safe and happy and in this case satisfied. As badly as I wanted to lift her off the sink and carry her to my bed, I had to tamp down the urge. I lifted my face and stared up at her, her scent clinging to my moustache and beard. A gentle, almost innocent smile followed as she pushed a strand of hair off my forehead. "I might have to forget my towel more often." "Just glad I could help." I stood up and lifted her off the vanity. I walked over and picked up the fallen towel. I carried it back to her, making sure to get a good long look at her naked body, before draping it around her shoulders. Then I kissed her on the forehead and walked out.

17 JOELLE

no idea why I was so darn nervous other than the fact that this was going I had to be the first time I'd gone out with Zach and Jesse to their favorite hangout.

Sundance had told me the Petty Thief was about the only place in town where people of their age group could gather, drink beer and dance. I knew I'd be facing the scrutiny of every one of their friends, male and female, and I wasn't sure I was ready for it. Working in Sherry's shop, I'd met a few people, women who knew and who had grown up with Zach and Jesse. Some were curious enough to stare and check me out from head to toe without trying to hide it, and some were considerably more polite about it. Afterward, Sherry would always give me the rundown on the customer's relationship with the Coltrane brothers. Not surprisingly, there were a hell of a lot of ex-girlfriends still in town, again, some not so friendly and others well-mannered and congenial. Jesse stepped out of the passenger seat of Zach's truck and turned back to give me his hand. I took it and climbed out. I immediately grabbed hold of the hem of my jean skirt and pulled it down as low as it could go. Which wasn't much farther than the top of my thighs. Sherry had given me the skirt because Anthony told her it was just a bit too short for the mayor's wife. Apparently, it had become a sore spot between them, so she decided to get rid of the "demon" mini skirt. I was beginning to see Anthony's point just as I was beginning to regret my decision to wear it, especially on my first outing to Petty Thief. "Joey, if you keep pulling at that skirt, it's going to slide right off." Jesse had taken to calling me Joey. It was Lolly's favorite nickname for me. No one had ever called me Joey but her. I liked hearing it again, but I doubted I would let anyone else call me it except Jesse and Zach. But while Zach sometimes called me Slick and occasionally Jo, he never used Joey. All I knew was that I cared so deeply for the both of them, they could have called me any damn thing they wanted and I'd answer to it with a smile. Zach came around to our side of the truck. The tight black t-shirt he'd pulled on contrasted well with his dark blonde hair and it looked almost like a source for the black lines of ink on his arms. Jesse had worn a flannel shirt like the one he had lent me my first night in Tanglewood. I'd grown so fond of it, I'd greedily kept it. I

slept in it on nights when there was a chill in the air. The three of us headed toward the bar. Petty Thief had a neon guitar jutting up from the blue and green sign boasting its unusual name. Rock and roll music thrummed from the open front door, and a muddle of voices were loud enough to be heard over the drumbeat. "I should have stayed at home. Bear and I would have had a nice quiet evening." Zach took hold of my hand. "It's not all that scary inside. Especially after a few beers." He released my hand and reached for the door. I instantly reached for the hem of the skirt and gave it a sharp tug. Jesse tossed his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close enough for a kiss on the top of my head. "Take a deep breath and leave that damn skirt alone. No one is going to notice how short it is because everyone is going to be staring at those amazing fucking legs of yours." I stopped short of walking inside. Jesse reached back and pulled me through the open doorway. Music blared overhead from half a dozen speakers. Somehow the noise helped ease my nerves. It wasn't like being the new kid at school and walking into an array of seats filled with silent faces and curious stares. People were huddled at the bar and more were crammed around tables and the crowded dance floor. It was a small town, but Jesse had mentioned that ladies' night always brought people from neighboring towns. That, too, gave me some comfort. At least the patrons weren't all from Tanglewood. "Coltranes in the house," a big guy with a shaved head and two silver plugs yelled from behind the bar. Zach waved at him. I leaned closer so he could hear me. "Is that Mr. Petty, the owner?" "No, that's the owner's son. I played baseball with him in high school." A familiar face popped through the crowd at the bar. Sundance came across the floor with a woman with short black hair and a pair of jeans that took skinny jeans to a whole new level. I knew Sundance had an on again, off again relationship with someone named Roxie. It seemed I was finally going to meet her. Her hazel eyes dropped right to my skirt and legs before lifting back to my face. Her smile was halfway between genuine and fake. "You must be the pretty star from heaven." My mouth opened but I wasn't sure how to respond. Her laugh was only slightly more genuine than her smile. "Just kidding. Sundance told me that's what the guys called you. I'm Roxie." I shook her hand. Sundance had pulled Zach and Jesse into a conversation, leaving me on my own. "I'm Joelle." We were instantly joined by two other women, one who I'd seen in the store at least twice and one who I'd never met. "Hey, Tammy, Helen, this is Joelle." Tammy smiled. She had an enviable mass of wavy red hair. It was easy to remember her because it was an extraordinary color. "We've met at Sherry's shop." "Yes, we have. Hello." Helen a tall, lean woman with blonde hair, full lips and a lime green skin tight dress tilted her head to the side and looked at me. "No wonder we hardly see Zach

anymore." A slight scowl followed. They were all standing around talking in a friendly manner but in a backhanded way. Zach heard his name and turned back to the women's conversation. A sigh of relief left me before I could stop it. I was sure Roxie caught it. Helen latched onto Zach's arm. "I was just saying no wonder we never see Zach anymore since he's got this pretty little foundling flitting around his house." Zach pulled his arm out of her grasp. "Seems like you've already had one too many dollar beers, Helen." His angry retort didn't help warm up her attitude toward me. And my regret for coming along was growing. Zach, who had somehow learned in a few short weeks how to read every expression on my face, sensed my discomfort. He reached across the circle and took hold of my hand. "Come on, let's get you a drink. You look like you could use it." I kept my gaze directly on him as he pulled me away. "Shit, Zach, we were just getting to know her," Roxie called. "Are you going to be greedy with her like that all night?" "Yep," he called back over his shoulder. Jesse joined us for the journey to the bar. It seemed everyone knew the brothers and considered them important enough to at least acknowledge with a shoulder clap or chin lift. And each face took time to check out the quiet and, now, utterly self-conscious girl plodding along with them. Something told me I'd have a much smoother entrance into Tanglewood society if the two men I was with weren't Coltranes. Sherry had told me it wasn't just the name they carried but their presence in general. People respected them, and at the same time, they knew never to mess with either of them. And then there was their infamous reputation with the women of Tanglewood. By the time we reached the bar, Jesse had received at least two kisses, one carried through the air from a petite woman perched on a barstool at the end of the bar and one smack dab on the lips by a woman who barely took the time to let him know she was singing tonight before stealing off into the crowd on the dance floor. Zach's attention had been temporarily pulled away by another woman in shiny blue high heels. I had seen her in Sherry's shop getting a dragonfly tattoo on her ankle. It had turned out nicely. Jesse tapped the wooden edge of the bar. "Junior, can we get three beers down here." Junior gave him a nod to let him know he'd heard the order. Jesse turned and leaned against the bar. Two guys standing nearby took no care to hide that they were checking me out, spending most of their attention on my legs. I pulled at the skirt. Jesse discretely reached down and took hold of my hand. "Told you so," he muttered. He turned to me. "You should sing tonight." Junior came back with the beers and overheard Jesse's suggestion. Junior looked at me. "Oh wow, you are something. How come women like this don't wander into my backyard? The only things I get are raccoons and stray cats. So you sing?"

"A little." I took hold of the beer and began sipping right through the foam, determined to take the edge of the evening off with a beer. "Not just a little," Jesse said. Junior pulled a few bowls of peanuts out from under the bar and put them on the counter. "We could use some new talent on amateur night. It's getting pretty sad listening to the same people pretend they can sing." "I don't think so. Besides, I can't sing without my guitar." The sense of loss that always overtook me when I thought about my guitar, my loyal companion, gone from my life forever, washed over me. "Some other time." Junior nodded. "Well, if you ever want to give it a go, my dad's guitar is in the office. It's a Fender that he bought back in the seventies when he was in a band." "Thanks, I'll think about it." The offer of strumming my fingers on a Fender guitar was beyond tempting but not if it meant having to sit up on stage in front of so many people, including Zach and Jesse. Humming and singing while I was doing dishes or taking a shower was one thing but sitting on stage with both of them watching me was very different. "Sundance has a table." Zach led us through the room to the corner table where Sundance and Roxie were sitting. Zach pulled out a chair for me, and I sat between him and Jesse. I figured if I stayed right there, with each of them on my side and a beer in front of me, I could stay low and nearly invisible in my protective triangle. I sipped my beer at first and resorted to gulping once more people joined us at the table or dropped by to visit. There was a flurry of new faces and names, too many to remember, so I stopped trying. The butterflies in my stomach had kept me from eating dinner before we left, so two beers were all I needed to feel lightheaded. I'd managed to stay sheltered between Zach and Jesse and out of the sight line of curious stares for long enough to relax. So when Zach, without a word, offered me his hand and led me onto the dance floor, I followed willingly. I found that as long as I stayed near one of the brothers, I didn't have to make much small talk with anyone else. And I was just fine with that. A country song that I'd heard before but had no idea of the title or artist churned down from the overhead speakers. Zach swung me around and into his arms, even though it wasn't a slow song. Other dancers plodded and skipped around us, everyone just drunk enough to do their own thing, some paying no attention to the rhythm of the music at all. Sundance slid past us with a cowboy sounding holler as he swung his partner around, a girl whose name I couldn't remember. Sundance had been doing tequila shots all night, and it seemed to be catching up to him. "Whooee, is that Zachary Coltrane on the dance floor?" Sundance yelled, "Hey, everyone, watch for shit coming down from the sky. It seems pigs can fly after all." Zach shook his head with a smile and ignored Sundance as he twirled me around by my hand. My body stopped spinning, but thanks to the beer, my head kept going. I fell against his hard chest. "Whoa, seems like two beers is your limit." I was grateful when he wrapped his

arm around me. His nearness always made me feel secure, even when I was feeling tipsy. "Sorry you're not having a great time," he said as we shuffled around the floor at our own pace, ignoring the other dancers. I looked up at him. "Not true. I'm having a good time. Far as I can see, I'm on the dance floor with one of the Coltrane brothers. Can't ask for more than that." It was rare to see Zach look embarrassed, but I could see it, even beneath the heavy facial hair. "Yeah, this town is kind of goofy. A little too set in tradition, I guess. But they're mostly good people." "They are. And I'm with you and Jesse, so I'm having a good time." I rested my face against him. He tightened his hold on me as we finished out the dance. I was well aware of too many eyes on us, as if we were doing some spectacular two-step jig rather than just scooting around the floor together. I closed my eyes to tune out the unwanted attention and enjoyed the few moments in Zach's arms. As the music ended, I lifted my face. Jesse was standing next to us with his hand out. "May I have the next dance?" I smiled up at Zach, and he handed me off with a flourish. Other than occasional moments when angry tension seemed to pulse between the two brothers, tension that seemed to have no source, things at the house were smooth. We enjoyed each other's company, and I had developed a deep attachment to both of them. Underneath it all was the more complicated physical layer of the relationship. There were still spontaneous caresses and touches and the occasional stolen kiss from each of them. The night of the mountain lion scare had gone much further than the casual touches, but it had happened so naturally. I'd never felt a moment of regret. Zach and I had gone on like usual, and Jesse and I still had moments together as well. And after a long day, we still each climbed into our own beds. That might have been what was keeping things solid. I should have felt as if I was being split in two, as if my heart was ripping in two directions, but that wasn't the case. I felt more whole than I had in years. If I dwelled on it too long, I could feel sparks of emotional turmoil start up. So I worked hard not to understand it. I'd had enough emotional turmoil to last a lifetime. The Fray's 'How to Save a Life' came through the speakers next, an awkward song to dance to because it shifted from fast to slow, but Jesse decided early on to make it a slow. I was fine with that. It was a different feeling, being in Jesse's arms than in Zach's. I couldn't really put an exact finger on it. It was something far more subtle than the different scent of their soap or the size of their arms and all the other obvious differences between them. It just felt different. With Zach, I felt as if no harm could ever come to me again, that he'd be there to protect me no matter what came my way. And with Jesse, I felt as if I was never going to feel sorrow or loneliness again. Jesse didn't twirl me or spin me. He just held me against him. I rested my face against his shoulder, just as I'd done with Zach a few minutes earlier. I'd gotten used to the observant gazes peeking out from every corner of the bar. I was already

bored of the attention the three of us seemed to be getting. It was a small town, small enough that, as Sherry liked to say— 'gossip flowed like syrup over a stack of pancakes. Sometimes it was slow and sticky and sometimes it just ran right off the plate, but either way it made the pancakes more enjoyable'. Sherry had presented me with her syrup and gossip comparison during one of our long chats over lunch. She thought her down home analogies were subtle, but I always knew exactly what she was getting at. I adored Sherry and she was by far my closest friend, aside from Jesse and Zach, but I just hadn't felt the need or desire to discuss my relationship with the brothers. Maybe it was because I wasn't entirely sure what to say about it. Or maybe my feelings about it were so private, I hadn't really even told myself yet. "Joey, I'm sorry we made you come tonight." Jesse's hand smoothed over my back and along my bottom, but he moved it quickly back up to the small of my back. Even though I was sure that if his hand had stayed on my bottom, it would spark another round of inquisitive stares, I was disappointed that he'd moved it. I lifted my face to him and pushed a long strand of his hair back behind his ear. "It's not that bad. Really. I think it's just that I'm a new face, and like I've heard you say before, the locals are pretty snooty when it comes to newcomers." He kissed my forehead. After the beers and the twirls around the dance floor, pressed tightly against his body, I would have loved a real kiss. From the expression on his face, he was thinking the same thing. But the truth was, Zach and Jesse were as confused about things as me. It seemed there was so much to say and so much to consider that, like me, they decided just to ignore it. We were three people who took comfort in each other's presence. For now, that seemed to be all we needed. The rest, the complicated, twisted parts of it were just better left alone. The song came to an end much sooner than I wanted. As Jesse led me off the floor, a big guy with a scar on his chin and a smug grin plastered across his face approached us. He stopped in front of us and took time to look me up and down. I could feel Jesse's arm tense behind my back. "So, Coltrane, are you and Zach going to let other guys have a chance to dance with this honey blossom, or are you only sharing her between you?" Jesse's arm fell away, and he stepped closer to the guy. They were the same height, but the guy was beefier than Jesse. Even so, the guy took a small step back as Jesse moved near him. "Harrison, maybe you want to rephrase that." Harrison's small eyes flickered, and any of the confidence he was wearing just seconds before disappeared. He might have been big enough to lift a small car, but he looked suddenly contrite. He nodded politely at me. "Just wondering if you would dance with me." "Thank you but I'm just heading to the ladies’ room." Jesse shrugged. "You've got your answer, Harrison." He clapped him extra hard on the shoulder as we walked past. I branched off toward the restroom, and Jesse headed back to the table. I was relieved to be out of the crowded barroom and inside the small bathroom. Both stalls were filled so I waited in front of the sinks. The two women using the stalls

were apparently friends and continued their conversation. "I wonder what the hell she's doing living in that house with both of them," one woman said to the other. My stomach knotted as I listened and hoped they were talking about someone else. The second voice chimed in. "Do you see how darn possessive they are about her? Shit, I swear Zach hasn’t taken his eyes off of her and Jesse, well color me fucking green, he sure as hell never kept a protective arm around me when we dated." "Yep, it's weird." The woman's laugh echoed off the tile walls. "Poor thing doesn't understand that those boys don't give their hearts to anyone, no matter what you're giving in return." Their laughs followed me as I raced out of the bathroom. I'd just cleared the hallway and ran right into Jesse. "Whoa there, who are you running from?" He stopped his chiding and lifted my chin to get a better look at my face. "What's wrong?" "Just take me home, Jesse, please." "Yeah, no problem. Let's go back to the table and see if Zach's ready to go." He led me back to the table. I was thankful that he didn't ask any more questions. He saw I was rattled and upset and that was all he needed. Sundance and Roxie were sitting on the bench side of the table. Sundance could barely keep his eyes open or his head up straight on his neck. Zach was sitting at the table talking to a girl, who I remembered was named Jill. She had her hand on his arm as she talked animatedly about something. Her smile faded some as she saw me approach. It seemed I'd made plenty of enemies tonight without saying a word to anyone. Zach turned on his chair, looked up at me and took hold of my hand. "What's wrong? You look upset." I shook my head. "Just tired." "I'm going to take her home," Jesse said. "You coming?" Zach looked across the table. "Roxie, are you going to take that guy home tonight?" "Nope. I came with Helen on her scooter." Sundance leaned back. Roxie caught him before he fell off the bench. "I drove myself here and I can drive myself home." His words were stretched and slow. Zach turned to us. "Looks like I'm on driving duty." He pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to Jesse. "See you at home." Jill shot me a glance before she reached across and put her hand on Zach's thigh. "You're not leaving yet, Zach. You promised me a dance." Zach ignored her. "I'll wait for tequila Jack to puke his guts out, then I'll toss his wasted ass into his truck. From the looks of it, that won't be too long. He's starting to look a little green." Jesse tossed the keys on his palm. "See you at home." He took hold of my hand and led me out of the bar.

18 JESSE

the truck onto the road. Joelle was sitting wrapped in her own arms and I pulled looking more than a little down.

"Any chance you're going to tell me why you're so upset?" She turned and stared out the window, even though the street was dark and there wasn't much to see. "Just feeling a little lost all of a sudden." "Hey." I reached over and dragged my finger down her soft cheek. I hadn't figured out how to keep my hands to myself when she was near. I just needed to touch her, almost checking to make sure she was real. She turned her brown eyes my direction. It seemed they were about as close to tears as they could be. "I don't really want to talk about it. If you want you can just drop me at home, so you can go back to the bar. I feel bad that I cut your night short." "I don't want to go back there. Tell you the truth, I was feeling just about as uncomfortable as you were in there tonight. Sometimes it's all they've got, you know? A small town has gossip, and there isn't any way to avoid it because everyone knows each other. Unfortunately, Coltrane news is like the holy grail of Tanglewood gossip. Don't worry about it. It doesn't mean anything. And you're not lost. You're here with us, with Zach and me." I tapped the steering wheel as an idea popped into my head. I turned the truck quickly, nearly missing the street I needed for my quick detour. The sudden change in route caught Joelle's attention. "Where are we going?" "Home. But I'm taking the roller coaster ride to get there. It'll take the pout out of those lips and put a smile on your face. At least for a few minutes." The night sky was clear as navy blue glass, and the stars took up nearly every open space. I rarely took the back road home, mostly because it was two miles out of the way. But tonight, it seemed like the thing to do. Joelle stared out the window with interest. "I don't see an amusement park or a carnival, so where's the roller coaster?" "Straight ahead." Joelle faced forward and lifted up in her seat to get a clear view over the dash. The starlight reflected off the asphalt road stretched out in front of us. The road

had three steep, long dips. When you hit them just right, they sent your stomach floating just like a drop on a roller coaster. I slowed the truck and lifted my hand. "Curl your pinky around mine and promise me you won't tell Zach I did this in his truck. I took his old junker, the car he drove in high school, down this street once and basically broke the car in half." Joelle's eyes rounded. "In half?" "Yeah, but don't worry, this truck is much stronger. You up for it? Or would you rather keep pouting?" She looked at the stretch of road ahead of us and a smile broke free. She hooked her pinky around mine. "I promise. But I think if you break this truck in half, Zach might notice." "Good point, but worth the risk." I put both hands on the wheel and slammed my foot on the gas. The tires screeched behind us and the smell of burnt rubber filled the cab as the truck shot forward. Joelle squealed with laughter and gripped the edge of the seat as the truck flew over each dip, defying gravity and lifting us off the seat at the bottom of each plummet. Joelle looked back over the seat. "I think I left my stomach back on the second dip." She caught her breath. "I'll bet that's fun on a bike." "It is. Although, I tried it on a skateboard once, and it didn't go too well. Left a few layers of skin on the road." "Ouch." She leaned back and touched her mouth. "I think the pout is gone. Thank you." "You're welcome. I've got one more cool thing to show you." I pulled off onto the dirt road that led to the river, a ten food wide stretch of running water that took a pretty wild ride over a wall of rocks. I parked on the side of the road. "We'll have to hike in a bit." Joelle looked pointedly down at her bare legs and sneakers. "I'm not exactly dressed for a hike." "No? I was just thinking how much more enjoyable it will be with you wearing that short skirt. At least for me." I climbed out of the truck and walked around to her side. She had no need for me to help her out of the truck, but I liked to take advantage of any fucking excuse I could to touch her. I put my hands around her waist, and she braced her hands on my shoulders as I lifted her out of the truck. Her body slid down along mine as I slowly lowered her to the ground. "You do that very well, by the way." Her little nose scrunched. "I smell and hear water." "Yep." I took her hand. "It's the closest thing Tanglewood has to a waterfall. The snow melt from the peaks above town keeps the water running at a good pace all spring. Unfortunately, it's too treacherous to ride down, even in an inner tube. That Zach found out the hard way when he was fifteen and he tossed in an old tractor inner tube and jumped in after it. Broke his arm in two places, which ended his baseball season and just about every other fun thing you need two arms for."

I led her through the trees toward the river. Her hand tightened around mine as the tree branches blotted out the starlight. "Poor Zach. I'll bet he was miserable." "See. That's what all the girls in town thought too. Boy, did he milk that broken arm after that. So much adoring sympathy that my dad finally had to start turning visitors away." As we drew closer, the musty green smell of river water filled the air. A fine mist sprayed us. "At the end of the rocks, the water flows into a few nice pools that make for great swimming holes in the summer." I climbed up on the flat outcropping of granite that overlooked the river. Then I turned around and gave Joelle a hand up. We stood and stared down at the long water snake, with its rough edges and jutting rocks. "It's beautiful." Joelle wrapped her hands around my arm. "Thank you for getting me out of that sour mood. I was starting to feel like a big old party pooper." I moved behind her and wrapped my arms around her, holding her against me. I rested my chin on the top of her head. "You are not a party pooper. Shit, you were the only good thing about tonight, Joey." She rested her head against my chest and pulled my arms tighter around her like she was tightening a sweater. "You, Jesse Coltrane, are very good for a girl's ego." "Glad to help." With my arms still wrapped around her, I used my chin to move the hair back off her neck. Joelle flinched and giggled as I tickled her with my beard stubble. I pressed my mouth against her neck. She tilted her head, inviting me to continue. "God, Joelle, you smell and taste like heaven." "So, you know what heaven tastes like?" she asked, her voice growing more breathy as my mouth moved along her neck and behind her ear. "I don't know what it tastes like, but if it's even close to this—" I ran my tongue around her ear. "Then I'm regretting not working harder to get there." I slipped my hands underneath her shirt. My palms smoothed over the creamy skin on her belly. I pushed her bra up above her breasts. I ran my thumb over her nipple. It hardened beneath my touch. She pushed her breasts forward, wanting more. A quiet mewling sound fell off her lips and got lost in the roar of the water below as I teased her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. My cock pushed against my fly and against her bottom. She responded by wiggling her ass against me. "I need to touch you, Joelle." I smoothed my hands down to the short hem of her skirt and lifted it up, exposing her panties. She shivered slightly in my arms, but it seemed it had nothing to do with the cool night air. Her head lolled back against me, and she softened in my arms. I kissed her neck and kept one arm across her breasts, holding her against me as my free hand slid beneath her panties. "Spread your legs, baby. I need to touch you," I muttered against her ear. Her feet shifted apart. She grabbed hold of my forearm for support. My fingers

slid through the moist heat pooling in her pussy. "Fuuck," I growled and moved my fingers deeper. As my fingers impaled her pussy, she gripped me as if her knees had grown useless. I could feel her heart beating beneath the hand I had across her breast. I continued kneading her nipple in my fingers, rolling it into a tight bud as I pushed the hand between her legs deeper. My thumb worked her clit as I impaled her pussy. I looked down and watched her face as her head rested against my chest. Her long lashes fluttered down as she closed her eyes and parted her lush lips. The erotic sounds rolling up from her throat made my cock ache with wanting her. Having her so close, flitting around the house with her musical laugh, her long legs and a face that I thought about in my dreams was like slow, sweet torture. I woke up wanting her. I went to bed wanting her. Cold showers and harsh self reminders that if I upset the balance, she might walk out of our lives forever kept me from acting out my deepest urges. But as I held her in my arms, bringing her slowly to climax, I could feel her wanting it. She moved against my hand, silently begging for me to give her more. "Oh, Jesse," she whimpered as her pussy grew hotter and wetter around my hand. "Come for me, Joelle." I moved my arm down to her waist to hold her securely. She rocked against the pressure of my hand and her thighs squeezed shut. "Jesse!" she cried as her pussy clamped around my hand, and her body trembled in my arms. I was holding her up completely now as she gripped my arms. A quiet moan rolled from her lips as she slowly relaxed against me. Joelle stared out at the river for a few minutes before she turned around and faced me. She curled her arms around my neck and lifted up on her toes to kiss me. "Jesse," she whispered against my mouth. The sound of it tightened my ribs around my heart. Joelle had come into our life. And from the first second that she'd fallen, cold and exhausted, into my arms, I knew nothing was ever going to be the same again. I had never felt this way about any woman. Ever. Sundance and Zach loved to tease me and call me Tin man, the guy who needed a heart. I had slowly started to believe them. But the woman in my arms had proved them wrong. I had a heart. It might have been buried deeper than the normal person's, but it had been exposed. The protective layers were gone, and I wondered just how the hell I was going to keep it from being shredded. Joelle ran her fingers along my beard. "What's that they say? Penny for your thoughts?" I laughed. "Zach would be the first to tell you that my thoughts aren't worth much more than that." I held her tightly against me. "I was just thinking about that first night when you came into the yard." "And stole your coat?"

"Yep. Pretty thief. Maybe we should start a bar of our own and call it that and only allow in people we like." A sound in the bushes snagged our attention. She wiggled closer. I didn't mind. "They relocated that mountain lion last weekend. But we should probably head back to the truck before the squirrels start calling in reinforcements." I watched with interest as Joelle wrangled her skirt down below her panties. She gave it an extra tug. "I am totally siding with Anthony on this skirt," she muttered to herself. "Siding with Anthony?" I asked as I dropped down from the rock and took hold of her hand to help her down. "This belonged to Sherry. Apparently, it was a source of contention between them. You never finished your penny thought." She took my hand and we walked back to the truck. "Oh, guess I didn't. There's not much to add. I was just thinking about that first night and . . ." She looked up at me with expectant brown eyes. "And?" I squeezed her hand in mine. "I'm just glad I left my coat out in the rain that night."

19 JOELLE

"S hit, these cellar steps are more rickety than I remembered."

Zach had walked in front of me, deciding that if I tripped, his body would stop me from hurtling down to the bottom. I followed each of his footsteps, making sure to place my foot where he had stepped, assuming he knew the most solid path down. He reached the bottom and stopped. I hadn't anticipated it and smacked right into his back. I caught hold of his arm before bouncing backward onto the rough edged steps. Zach reached up and pulled on a thin chain dangling from overhead, and a light bulb sputtered on. He looked back. "Don't ask me why my great grandfather thought to put the light at the bottom of the steps instead of at the top." He waved his hand around the shadowy space. It was filled with dark silhouettes of old furniture and other things that were hard to make out in the dusty light. "No guarantees that we are the only living creatures down here at the moment. And no promises that my mom's easel is still down here." Earlier in the day, I'd mentioned how much I missed drawing and painting, something I had done a lot as a kid. Zach had told me that his mom liked to paint and that his dad had built her a really nice easel. And so, it was decided, that we would go on a search for it. Only now, standing in the cold, damp cellar that looked far more creepy than I'd expected, I wasn't so sure the quest for the easel was worth it. "We keep some storm supplies and heavy duty flashlights over here." The room wasn't large but I stayed right on Zach's heels, not wanting to get lost or sucked into the shadows by a monster sized rat. Zach reached into a set of metal shelves and pulled out a flashlight. He flipped it on, and the room lit up. He moved the big circle of light around, highlighting an old dresser, some boxes and a trunk. Most everything was coated with a heavy layer of dust and cobwebs. "I think the last time I saw the easel, it was tucked behind that old trunk. Let's start there." Zach walked over and hovered the flashlight over the cluttered crevice behind the trunk. "Ah ha." He handed me the flashlight. "Hold this and keep an eye out for moving critters."

"Oh god, moving critters. O.K." I held the light over him as he draped himself over the trunk and moved things around. A few grunts and cuss words followed before his arm emerged with a piece of wood. "Here's a leg." I took the piece of wood from his hand, and he returned to his treasure hunt. "Here's another piece." I took what looked like the railing to rest paint and brushes on from his hand, then he went back to fish for more. Watching him lean far over the trunk, with his butt and legs wriggling behind him, put a smile on my face. "May I just mention, that if I were to take a picture of this scene, hunky Zach Coltrane draped provocatively over a storage trunk, I'd get a million likes on it." He gave his bottom an extra wiggle. "Mighty fine, I know. Think this is it." He lifted up another piece of the easel, the biggest piece yet and grinned victoriously. We both looked at the collection of broken pieces. "Guess it's going to need a little repair." "A little. Hey, what's in the trunk? Some family secrets or a hidden trove of family jewels? Or maybe a body?" "Said the girl who has apparently watched one too many horror movies." Zach looked down at it and pulled the lock open. "Probably just a bunch of old shit my mom got tired of looking at in the house." The painted edges of the storage chest crackled as Zach popped it open. He yelled and shot back. I screamed and headed for the stairs, only to be followed by a stream of laughter. I stopped and felt my face warm with embarrassment as I turned back to him. "Guess I have seen one too many." I headed back to him, feeling like an utter dork. Zach reached inside and pulled out two umbrellas, both of which would no longer keep out the rain. He tossed them aside. I looked over his shoulder. There were stacks of linens and boxes of paperwork. "See, nothing but a bunch of boring stuff." I reached past him and grabbed hold of a photo album before he could close the lid. He stared at it as I clutched it against me, letting him know that I was going to look at it no matter how much he protested. "You don't want to look at that. It's just a bunch of pictures of Jesse and me growing up." "Oh, but I do want to look at it. In fact, I can't wait to get out of this musty cellar and check out every cute picture. I'll bet you two were adorable." Zach shook his head. "I was, but Jesse had a big head. Still does, if you look at him at just the right angle. Like a fucking human Pez dispenser." I followed him to the steps. He turned off the light bulb and used the flashlight to lead us safely up the sketchy stairs. I headed straight to the couch with the photo album. Zach turned toward the kitchen. "Not sure if I can withstand the humiliation of you seeing me in my little league uniform or worse in a diaper. Want a soda?" "No thanks." I sat down, and before I even opened up the album, a picture slipped out. It had the watermark on the back from a professional photography

studio. I turned it over. It was Zach, seventeen or eighteen, with only a shadow of a beard and no traces of ink peering out past the sleeves or collar of his suit. He was standing in front of a giant silver cutout of a star, and standing in front of him was a petite girl with black hair and emerald green eyes, dressed in a shimmery gold prom dress. They both wore matching pink roses, his in a boutonniere and hers in a clunky wrist corsage. I stared at the picture and wondered if I was looking at Sage. Zach was wearing his subdued smile. His arm was wrapped tightly around her, which sent a pang of jealousy through me. I laughed quietly at my reaction, but even after a proper mental scolding, the envy was still there. Zach returned to the room with a drink. He sat down on the couch next to me. "What do you have there?" I pushed the picture in front of him. "I take it this was your prom?" The next question was at the tip of my tongue, but I waited first to see his reaction. He fell silent as he stared down at the picture. It took him a second to recover, which was even more of a reaction than I'd expected. "Yeah. Shit, I hated putting on a suit." "Is that Sage?" Zach nodded half-heartedly as he smoothed his thumb over the picture and studied it, almost as if he'd forgotten I was sitting there. Then he sucked in a deep breath and handed it back to me like he would have any meaningless photo of the past. But his initial reaction had assured me, it was anything but meaningless. "What else? Now that you're holding those pictures, I might as well sit here and suffer humiliation firsthand." Then, without warning, he took hold of my waist and hauled me onto his lap, photo album and all. The flirtatious move had erased some of the gloom the prom picture had caused. I hadn't expected to be so taken aback by the way he looked at it, but I was relieved that the moment had passed. It was easier to push the inconvenient stuff to the back of my mind. I settled into the warm cradle of his arms, and as I wriggled into place, a low groan rumbled in his throat. I blinked innocently at him. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" "Funny girl." I held back a smile as I opened up the book. The first picture was a small boy with a mound of blond hair straddling a black and red bicycle. "This has to be you." "Yes, I had a head that was in proportion to my body." He flipped past a few pages and pointed to a picture that mirrored his bicycle picture, only the rider had straight brown hair, and, yes, a head that was a bit too big for the skinny body beneath. It was easy to recognize the smile, only there were a few less teeth than now. "Am I right? Like a damn bobble head." "Maybe it's because he's got a really big brain," I suggested. "Yeah, that's the theory he likes to spout, but I think he's just deformed." I smacked his chest. "Mean big brother." I rested my head against his shoulder. I'd grown to love the smoky aroma both

he and Jesse always wore on their clothes and hair. I'd even grown to love the way their steel toed boots sounded on the wood floor and the sound of their voices rolling through the yard and into the house as they yelled to each other over the sound of the forge and tools. I turned the page. "Dad?" I asked. "Yep." Their dad looked like a stern man with iron thick forearms. Jesse had his coloring but Zach had his face shape and mouth. I pointed at a picture of him, where he was holding an elegant but menacing-looking sword. "Did he make that sword?" "Yep. It was probably one of his best blades." Zach's beard flicked back and forth as he seemed to get lost in a distant memory. "It was the last thing he finished before he died." He closed the album and I wondered if it was hard for him to look at his dad's picture. I stayed on his lap, and my eyes drifted closed as he smoothed his hand over my back. "How is it working for Sherry?" "She's great. Couldn't ask for a better boss. I'm having a hard time believing how lucky I got by hopping off the train in Tanglewood. I feel like so many of the pieces of my life that have been missing since I lost Lolly and . . ." I stopped there, not wanting to bring up Bobby. He was a subject I worked every day to erase from my memory. But he had left more than enough permanent scars behind, making the task nearly impossible. "I'm just thankful." A car door outside made Bear sit up on his pillow. His tail wagged, signaling that Jesse was home. Zach tensed underneath me. Without discussion, or any direct request from Zach, I scrambled off his lap. And that was when it struck me. I had Zach time, and I had Jesse time, moments when things grew more intimate than just talking, eating and laughing together. But those shared moments of physical affection were never shared between the three of us. There was never Jesse and Zach time. Was that the key? Was that why this seemingly complicated mess stayed clear of tangles? They both knew that I cared deeply about them, but maybe I was the only one who truly knew just how deep that affection went. I'd come into this so broken and lost that it seemed I'd allowed myself to be greedy. Jesse walked in immediately after. He stared at both of us for a second and then brushed off whatever he was thinking. "Two things." He held up two fingers as a prop. "First, Sundance and Roxie are coming over tomorrow night for a game of Strip or Shot War." He opened his mouth to continue, but I interrupted him. "Did you say Strip or Shot War?" "Yes. It's a game we all invented." "When we were very drunk," Zach added. "Second, or two, or whichever—" Jesse pointed at me. "I saw Junior down at the hardware store, and he told me he would love to find someone to sing at the bar on the weekends. He said amateur hour just isn't working out, mostly because

everybody sucks up on stage. He said you should come in for an audition this afternoon before the bar opens." "No, I don't think so, Jesse. Tell Junior thanks for the offer, but I'm not that good." "Bullshit," Jesse said. "He said the gig would pay a hundred fifty a night and five percent of the night's tabs. Sounded like a pretty good deal to me." I leaned back against the couch. I could feel Zach's gaze on the side of my face. "I just can't. Can I?" "What would Lolly tell you to do?" Zach asked. I turned to him and then back to Jesse, who shot me that disarming smile that made the word no impossible. Zach's question repeated in my head. I could almost picture Lolly standing directly in front of me, with her hands on her ample hips and her dark brows knitted together saying 'Joey, don't take your talent for granted. Use it. Make your life better with it'. I sighed. "Fine, I'll audition, but when Junior realizes that I'm not a good fit, we never mention it again."

20 ZACH

gone in to help Joelle find my mom's easel and then spent time with her I 'd looking at pictures. I'd lost my enthusiasm for work after that. The stretch of

time had been short, but as always, enjoyable. Any time spent with Joelle was enjoyable. But several things had happened that had thrown me off enough that I skipped heading back out to the shop. I had no fucking clue that a picture of Sage, a stupid posed picture with us dressed in formal wear, clothes that never suited either of us, would have felt like a kick in the gut. But it had. Once I knew that Sage was gone for good, I'd pushed pictures and letters and anything else that would have reminded me of her into the back of my closet. I couldn't toss the stuff but hiding it from plain sight had helped me deal with her leaving. Having Joelle next to me had helped me brush aside the feelings the picture had awoken. The past was in the past, and I just needed to leave it there. I hadn't given it much thought when I pulled Joelle into my lap, except I knew I wanted to hold her. Of course, my cock had plenty of other ideas, especially when she moved her perfect round ass against me, but I'd kept a lid on my erotic thoughts. The trip down memory lane, complete with pictures of Mom and Dad, helped squelch those thoughts fast. Then Jesse came home, and my first thought was that I shouldn't be holding Joelle in my lap. She sensed the same thing and had moved quickly to the cushion next to me. I knew damn well that Jesse and I both couldn't get enough of Joelle, whether it was talking to her, laughing about something silly or debating something that each of us had an opinion about. And I knew there was so much physical tension between us, I could have cut a slice of it out of the air, shoved it in the forge and pounded it into a steel blade. Still, somehow, maybe from not wanting to mess up what we had together, we'd managed to keep things running smoothly. But now I realized that was because Jesse and I were tiptoeing around each other when it came to what we both really wanted. And what we both really wanted was Joelle. Jesse honked his horn. I grabbed my coat and headed out to the car. I climbed into the backseat. Joelle sat in the passenger seat glancing at some lyrics she'd

printed off Jesse's computer. She looked pale and nervous, and suddenly, I was feeling bad for talking her into this. I reached forward and placed my hand on her shoulder. "You doing O.K. there, Slick?" She nodded but didn't say a word. "You'll be great," Jesse said as he pulled out onto the road. "Maybe you guys should just stay in the car while I sing." She folded the paper up and put it in her coat pocket. "We could," I said, “but wouldn't it be better to look out at familiar faces when you're up on stage?" "Good point," she said. "Maybe you should come inside. But then I might be even more nervous if I see you guys. So maybe you should stay in the car." Jesse reached over and took hold of her hand. If I tilted my head just right, I could see his hand wrapped around hers. I don't know why I stared at his hand over hers, but I did. "Look, why don't you decide when we get there," Jesse said. "The bar doesn't open up for another twenty minutes, so it'll just be Junior, his cousin and few of the servers. And if you want Zach and me to come in, we will. If you don't, we'll stay right outside in the car." By the time Jesse had pulled his car into the Petty Thief parking lot, Joelle had changed her mind a dozen times. She'd also taken the lyrics in and out of her pocket enough times to finally rip the paper in half from use. Jesse turned off the car and looked at her. "I can't remember where you last ended this. Do we go or stay?" "Stay." She pressed her hands down in front of her. "It'll probably only take a few seconds for Junior to know this was a silly mistake." She reached into her pocket and pulled out the two halves of the lyrics, glanced at them and shoved them back in her coat. She didn't say another word or look at us as she climbed out of the car and shut the door. Then she reached for the handle, opened it and popped her head inside. "Are you guys coming or what?" "Yes, absolutely." "Coming right now." Jesse and I both reached for the door handles and assured her we were on our way. We climbed out and walked with her, at a snail's pace, to the front door. I'd gone back and forth in my mind, wondering if I should let her know it was all right to skip the audition. She seemed beyond nervous, and I hated seeing her like that. But then I worried that she might regret not trying this. I looked over at Jesse. He looked far more confident that this was going to work out well. I had to give him credit, no matter what the situation, he was always the glass half full guy. Junior was pulling chairs off the tables as we walked inside. His cousin, Greg, and another guy with spiked up hair were sitting at a table. The floor was slick from being mopped. We stepped lightly across the wood planks to stop any dirt from

falling off our shoes onto the newly cleaned floor. "There you are." Junior approached us and smiled at Joelle. "Wasn't sure if you'd come, but I'm glad you're here. I'll get my dad's guitar. Hey, Greg, Mike, this is Joelle." Joelle waved at them and turned back to Junior. "Actually, can I spend a few minutes alone with the guitar in your office?" Some of the color had returned to her cheeks, and she seemed a bit more relaxed. "Every guitar has its own personality. I just want to get to know it first. A little alone time, if you don't mind." Junior laughed at the alone time line. "Sure thing. I'm sure Dad's guitar won't mind either." They disappeared into the office. Jesse and I pulled up chairs at a table close to the small square of linoleum designated as the stage. I sprawled out over the chair, and Jesse did the same. He tilted his head my direction. "I can read your mind, big brother," he said. "You think it was a mistake to push her into this." "I never said that. Maybe you're reading your own mind because you did push." "No, I think she'll do great. That was the most adorable few fucking minutes ever. No stay. No go. I want you both to stay in the car. I need you two to be there, or I won't be able to sing one word." He lowered his voice back to his own. "Guess she wouldn't have done that if we weren't really important to her." "Yeah, I guess so. Of course, if she gets this gig, she'll make enough to move out and live on her own." It was something that had been scratching at the back of my brain since Jesse mentioned the generous pay. Even just five percent of the tabs could be substantial on a crowded night. Jesse faced me. "Why do you think that? Do you think she wants to move out?" It seemed the possibility of Joelle leaving us had never crossed my brother's mind. But now that I'd put the seed out there, his glass was a little less full than before. He sank back against the seat, chewing on the idea while we waited for Joelle to sing. A light strumming sound came from the office as Junior opened the door and walked back out to the bar. "Where is the old man?" Jesse asked. "Haven't seen him in weeks." "Spends most of his days fishing and avoiding this place. Says it's just too noisy and too much work for him. He's basically passed the reins to me for good. That's why I came up with this music performance idea. My cousins have been bugging me to play on stage, but they've lacked a decent singer. My cousin is an online marketing whiz. He thinks he can double the weekend crowds if we let neighboring towns know we're offering live music." The hum of the guitar grew louder. Junior looked back toward the office. "She definitely knows how to play. And I don't have to tell you two that she has the kind of looks that could draw in a good crowd. Guess we'll just have to see if she has the voice to go with it." "Oh she does." Jesse pulled around an extra chair and smugly propped his feet on it, apparently forgetting the seed I'd just planted.

Junior walked to a closet in the narrow passage near the bathrooms and pulled out a stool. He carried it to the center of the stage. He grabbed the standing microphone that they used on amateur night from the corner and set it up in front of the stool. In the background, we could hear Joelle playing the guitar, apparently enjoying herself and possibly even forgetting that she was supposed to come out to sing. Junior walked past. "I'll let her know the bar opens in fifteen minutes." I sat sideways next to the table and drummed my fingers on it. "I wonder if she'll walk out here and tell us to go back to the car." The guitar stopped, and the office door opened and shut. I realized I could recognize her light footsteps on any floor. She had a way of walking that was graceful and airy, as if her feet barely touched the ground. Joelle didn't look at or acknowledge us as she headed to the stool. She stood there, facing away from us for a second as she stared down at the stool and ran her fingers along the chrome stand holding up the microphone. She lifted the guitar and turned around. Her eyes still seemed to focus only on the floor in front of her. She bit her lip as she adjusted her bottom on the stool. She placed the guitar across her lap and rested her blue sneakers on the bars of the stool. Her long lashes still covered her eyes. Jesse shot me a glance across the table. I knew he was thinking the same thing as me. I wanted to walk over and take her into my arms and tell her she never had to be nervous in front of us. Joelle could do any fucking thing she wanted, and Jesse and I would still adore her. Like the world’s most enduring, hard core fans. Joelle's long fingers pinched the guitar pick, and she started to play. It was No Doubt's 'Simple Kind of Life' and from the second her lips parted and the first words flowed out, we all sat forward like the sound had some magnetic power. She finally lifted her lashes, and her brown eyes gazed out at us as she strummed the guitar and sang, every word, coming from her perfect lips. I glanced over at Jesse. He was in a trance, watching her like she was his angel on earth. It was just as easy to read Junior's thoughts, as he mentally seemed to be calculating the gold mine he'd just stumbled onto. Joelle had favored us with impromptu songs in the kitchen or when she was in the tub, since the first day, and we both knew she had an amazing voice. I had wondered if our admiration for her and the fact that she was utterly flawless had somehow blinded us, or in this case, deafened us so that, to our ears, it sounded great because it was coming from Joelle's lips. But I no longer had to wonder. Her singing voice was as phenomenal as the rest of her. I rested back for the first time since she'd started to sing. She favored Jesse with a long, intense gaze, just long enough to make my jaw clench with envy. But then she shifted her focus my direction. I relaxed and smiled back at her. The lyrics talked about a girl wanting nothing but 'a simple kind of life'. I looked across the table at my brother and then back at Joelle. It seemed that what we'd created between the three of us was anything but simple.

21 JOELLE

between helping customers, I stood at the counter and jotted down all the I nsongs I knew. Junior's cousin, Greg, had asked for the list so he could design a

flyer, and he and his guys could work on the music. Sherry had given me the day before off because she knew I'd be running the shop alone today while she attended a political fundraiser with Anthony. There had been a morning rush, but once things quieted down I was able to clean and stock shelves. I'd even managed to wash the front windows and clean up the bathroom. I picked at the peanut butter sandwich I'd brought from home while I brainstormed my list. I tended toward soft and alternative rock, but I knew some country songs too. That was a bonus because Junior's cousin liked to play country. I had been nothing short of terrified to audition, but having Jesse and Zach there, giving that unflinching support they were so good at, helped me get through it. I found that once I began singing, it wasn't nearly as scary as I thought. Of course, singing in front of a crowd might renew some of the stage fright, but I was determined to do this and do it right. I could hardly believe how much my life had changed since I'd hopped on that boxcar. The bell on the door rang. Sherry walked in clutching a white bag. She held it up. "Chocolate chip cookies from this awesome bakery in the city." She was still wearing the nice, demure dress that she'd picked for the fundraiser. It had taken her forever to find a dress that would hide most of her ink and make her look, as she had termed, the proper, good wife of a politician. She dropped the bag on the counter, and I wasted no time helping myself to a cookie. I took one bite and made a long humming song to go with it. Sherry pointed at me. "See, when a bakery item causes sounds that are similar to sex sounds, then they are officially orgasmic. Right?" I covered my mouth to keep from spitting out cookie with my laugh. I swallowed and nodded. "They are right up there with great sex." Sherry glanced down at the list I was writing. "Sundance told me you got a nicely paid singing job at the Petty Thief. Congratulations. When do you start?" "Next Thursday. His cousin is getting the word out on social media and with

flyers. Junior wants to bring in more people from surrounding towns. He seems to think live music will do the trick." Sherry took a cookie for herself. "He's right. Hopefully it won't bring in a lot of losers and troublemakers though. It's one thing for all the usual locals and patrons to get drunk and loud and obnoxious on a Friday night, but . . . well, you know." "You're right. But I'm sure Junior will keep track of the people coming in and out of his bar. He seems to be determined to make his dad proud and keep the place successful." Sherry walked over to her side of the shop and straightened up things on her work counter. "I guess if you're making all kinds of money, you'll finally be able to get a place of your own." Her words coasted across the room and smacked into me on my side of the store. In my mind, the extra money would allow me to start paying rent. I walked over to her side of the shop. Sherry looked up from her task and seemed surprised by my expression. "Oh, I just thought that's what you wanted to do. I just figured." She waved her hand. "Never mind. None of my business." "You think I should move out, don't you?" She turned and leaned her elbows back on her counter. I could sense that she struggled with what to say next. "You just left a bad relationship. It seems you might enjoy some independence." I sat on the edge of the tattoo chair. "And? I know there's more. You're wearing that big sister look you get when you're about to lend me your wisdom." "God, that makes me sound so old." She glanced absently toward the window. "Oh, you cleaned the glass. Nice." "Sherry?" I prodded. "It's just, Tanglewood is a small, gossipy town, and when it comes to—" "Yes, I know. Gossip is that much juicier when it involves Zach and Jesse. It's kind of unfair, don't you think? So, the town is having fun imagining all the sordid things going on at the Coltrane homestead?" She tilted her head. "Well?" "Well what?" "What is going on?" She straightened. "No, you don't have to tell me. It's none of my business. But the nosy posies in town are dreaming up all kinds of stuff." "They should all worry about themselves then," I said sharply. "You know, I lived with Bobby, and I was totally loyal to that asshole because I thought that's what I was morally bound to do. And my neighbors waved and smiled at me as if everything was just peachy in my life. Even when I had a mark on my cheek that couldn't have been misconstrued as anything but a fist to the face. And yet, they still smiled and went on with their lives, thinking what a nice young, happy couple. So, I've tried the straight and narrow life, and, frankly, it wasn't all that great." I hadn't meant to cry, but the tears came before I could stop them. Sherry took hold of my hands. "You're right. It's nobody's business. Even mine.

But I love all three of you, and I don't want to see anyone hurt." Sherry reached across her counter for a tissue and handed it to me. I wiped my nose. "We've got it under control." Even as I said the words, I questioned whether that was true. There were moments when it was nothing short of perfect, and then there were moments that seemed fragile, as if one small misstep could break the harmony. "I should get back to the register. The high school will be letting out soon." I stopped after a few steps, almost as if the conversation had made my feet impossibly heavy. "I'll think about moving out. You might be right. It might be good to try it on my own for a change."

22 JESSE

been in charge of getting the tequila and whiskey for the game. Sundance I 'd was bringing the cards and Roxie and Katy. Joelle was in the kitchen filling

bowls with chips and dips. I plunked the bottles of booze on the counter. "You still haven't told me the rules of this game. What's it called? Strip or Shot War?" She motioned to the row of shot glasses. "I'm going to assume these are the shots, and I'm hoping the strip part has something to do with thin pieces of fabric. I'm lost on the war part." I walked around the counter and helped myself to a chip. "It's like the card game of war, except our version is way cooler. We all turn over cards, and when two or more people turn over matching cards, those two people have to accept a consequence. They can take a shot of liquor or remove one item of clothing. And if the matching cards are aces, they have to do both." "Ah ha." She looked down at her t-shirt and jeans. "Then I'm extremely underdressed." "No you aren't. It's a casual game. No fancy dress required." Joelle scooted around me. "That's not the kind of underdressed I mean. I'm going to add a few more layers. I'm notoriously unlucky at cards, so if I don't add a few more items to my wardrobe, I will either be drunk or naked less than an hour into the game. Maybe even both." I picked up another chip. "What's your point?" "Butthead." She walked out. "I'm just saying, I don't see any problem with naked or drunk or both," I called to her as she disappeared down the hallway. Zach came in from the shop. "Who's naked and drunk?" He walked straight to the chip bowl. "I was just telling Joelle the rules of the game." Zach didn't answer. He was wearing that over-thinking look on his face. It came with a beard twitch, which meant he was really over-thinking something. "What's on your mind, bro?" Zach took another chip and swept it through the dip. "Just wondering—" He

stopped before eating the chip. "Do you think this is a good idea?" "What? Putting dip on a chip? It's been done for years and has worked out just fine." "Fuck you, Jesse. You know exactly what I mean." He dropped the chip in the sink and started to walk out. "It's no big deal. It's just a game, Zach." He stopped in the doorway and looked past me, apparently, to check that Joelle wasn't around. Then he stepped back into the kitchen and lowered his voice. "A game that we usually play with a bunch of people we don't really give a shit about except to have a good time." I knew exactly what he was getting at, but I couldn't bring myself to focus on it because I'd had some of the same thoughts. But instead of admitting that to Zach, I took a different route, the completely wrong one at that. "Katy is coming too. I thought you two had been starting something. You know back before . . ." Seeing the cold as stone expression in my brother's face, I let the words die off. "As I said a few minutes ago, Jes. Fuck you." "C'mon, Zach, I just—" He stepped closer. Having been his younger brother for twenty-five years, I knew to take a step back. "You just thought you'd neatly pair me up with Katy and then, well, then you'd have her all to yourself. So I'll say it again. Fuck you." "I love her." The words came out fast. I couldn't stop them. I didn't want to stop them. Zach and I had been circling each other and avoiding the topic, the elephant in the room, or in this case, the amazing girl in the house. A harsh laugh shot from Zach's mouth. The sound of it made me curl my fingers into fists. "What the fuck do you know about love, Jesse?" "Me? Look who's talking. You stood right there in that yard and watched Sage climb into her car and drive off for good. And I know it was eating you up inside, but you didn't follow her. Why the fuck didn't you follow her?" We had tried our damndest to keep our voices low but that was done. "You just let her go. So, don't talk to me about love, big brother. Don't even fucking talk about it." I knew I'd hit a sore spot, and it showed in Zach's face. It had been a low blow, and I was already regretting it. But every fucking emotion was shooting through me and hurting Zach seemed like my best defense against my own heart taking a hit. "You know why I didn't follow her?" Zach's voice had dropped low again, but it wasn't out of not wanting Joelle to hear. It was that I'd hit him right where it counted, and he was pissed as hell. "Because I knew that my brother, the first Coltrane to be born with the same insane natural talent as John James Coltrane, would fuck things up if I left him on his own. I knew that if I left, this family's legacy would die off, while you partied and screwed around. That's why I stayed. I stayed for the business because I knew you couldn't handle it on your own." My fists were both balled in rage. Instead of backing off, I stepped closer. Zach and I hadn't taken a swing at each other since we were kids. "Don't put the fucking

blame on me, Zach. I could've handled things just fine." Another harsh laugh followed. He turned to leave, obviously deciding this was done. But I wasn't done. I shoved him. He swung around, ready to pummel me. A sound in the doorway stopped him. It was hard to know if he would have hit me or how far this would have gone, but the second we both sensed Joelle in the room, the anger cooled. The look on her face was somewhere between confusion and hurt. It was a small house. She had to have heard plenty. Without another word, Zach grabbed the bottle of whiskey and turned to leave. "Hey, I bought that whiskey." "Put it on my fucking tab." Zach walked out and slammed the back door hard enough to rattle the windows in the kitchen. I steeled myself to face Joelle again. She looked plumper than usual, and it took me a second to realize that she had layered on at least half a dozen shirts, apparently determined not to lose the game. She blinked up at me with big brown eyes and what seemed to be a million questions on her lips. "Don't worry about that. Zach just had a long day, that's all." "Jesse, stop. I heard enough. Sherry mentioned today that since I'll be making more money with my singing, I'll be able to afford to live on my own." It was the last thing I needed to hear tonight. "Sherry should mind her own fucking business." Joelle stepped farther into the kitchen. She fanned her face. "One too many shirts. She's just worried about us, about you guys. She loves you and Zach, and . . ." She fingered the bottle of tequila. "And maybe she's right. Maybe it'll be better if I live on my own. I'll still be in Tanglewood." A sad laugh followed. "I've got nowhere else to go, and frankly, I've never been as happy as I am right now. Here in this town, with you and Zach." I took hold of her hand, lifted her knuckles to my mouth and kissed them. "Neither of us wants you to go. I don't want you to go." She looked out the window toward the shop where Zach had turned the light back on to apparently sit and sulk with my whiskey. "I don't want to lose either of you, but I'm worried that I might just lose you both." She picked up the bottle of tequila and walked down the hallway to her room. I stood there alone in the kitchen, wondering just what the hell had happened here. Zach was outside, pissed off and sucking down a bottle of whiskey. Joelle was in her room, alone with the bottle of tequila and entertaining the idea of moving out. And I was standing with a row of empty shot glasses, no liquor and feeling like I just got pulled in two directions. My phone rang. I answered it. "What do you want?" "Is that any way to talk to your best friend? We'll be up in around an hour. Roxie has to wait for Katy to get off work." "Game's off, bro." "What? Why the fuck?"

"Just isn't going to work tonight. Later."

23 JOELLE

t the time, the bottle of tequila had seemed like a good idea, a nice way to numb A the emotional chaos. It had definitely numbed me some, but there was still plenty

of chaos. I had stripped off the layers of clothing, down to just my tank top and jeans, relieved that the game had been cancelled. I listened to the explosive sound effects of the video game being played out in the living room. The only voices were those of the game characters, so I concluded that Jesse was playing the game alone. I got up and went to the window. From the bedroom I could see the side of the shop. A light still glowed inside. I sat on the edge of the bed with just enough alcohol in my bloodstream to make the room rock side to side before righting itself. I'd spent the last hour chiding myself for being such a fool, for thinking I could just happily slip into both their lives and that things would just roll along. Sherry had been the voice in my ear, providing the conscience that should have been coming from my own head. Instead, I had to rely on her to let me know that things were getting complicated and that complicated meant someone or everyone would end up hurt. But this had gone deeper than my conscience could reach. I couldn't reason with this. Thanks to the tequila buzz, my bare feet barely seemed to touch the floor as I floated to the door. I walked out to the living room. Jesse had turned the game off. I heard him in the kitchen popping open a beer to go with the six other empty cans sitting on the coffee table next to the game controller. The back door opened and shut. Zach had returned to the house. I walked over to the radio and turned it on. Tom Petty was singing Free Fallin. I cranked it. I started singing along with Tom and twirled around the living room, getting lost in the music. The room spun too, assuring me that I was plenty drunk. Good ole tequila. For now, it had erased some of the confusion. And, it seemed, my inhibitions had gone right along with it. I turned toward the kitchen. Jesse stood in the doorway drinking his beer and watching me with a gaze that sent a warm blush over my skin. He walked over and set the beer down. I swung around again, enjoying the heady

rush of being drunk. A strong arm circled around my waist. Jesse pulled me around to face him and his mouth lowered over mine. In his arms, I swayed to the rhythm of the music. My lips parted and his tongue stroked mine as the kiss deepened. He lifted his mouth from mine, and my hand trailed along his arm, to take hold of his hand. He twirled me, and the room blurred around me, but one thing came crystal clear through the haze. Zach's face. His eye's looked heavy with the whiskey he'd been drinking. I still held Jesse's hand as I reached across the room to him. Zach's strong hand gripped mine, and he pulled me hard against him. His mouth came down over mine. The kiss was almost punishing. I wanted more of it. The music thrummed around us, and my head was light with it all. As Zach's kiss deepened, Jesse came up behind me and pressed his hard body against me. I was tucked between them, and I knew nothing after this moment would ever be the same. We were all drunk and trying to soothe the same confusion, the same pain. And in the process, it seemed we had awoken every other sensation, every urge, every desire we'd been working so hard to ignore. Wedged between them, I could feel them both, their cocks pressing urgently against me, Zach's against my belly and Jesse's against my ass. I spun around and reached my arms around Jesse's neck. His kisses started at my mouth and trailed down my neck. Behind me, I could feel the callused tips of Zach's fingers as he took hold of the hem of my shirt. He drew it up and over my head. Immediately his mouth pressed kisses along my shoulders. Jesse's mouth continued down my neck and along the curves of my breast. His fingers trailed up along my arms, gently, slowly, eventually curling around the straps of my bra. He pulled them down and his mouth covered my breast, his tongue drawing circles around my nipple. I leaned my head back against Zach's shoulder. As Jesse teased my nipples, Zach smoothed his hands around my belly and worked open the fly on my jeans. In my erotic haze, I heard the zipper slide down. My head spun with the physical attention. Heat surged between my legs as their hands and mouths caressed me. It was common wisdom that if you had a loose thread on a sweater, you tied a knot to stop it from unraveling. I knew it too but I didn't tie a knot. Instead, I grabbed hold of that loose thread and pulled, even knowing damn well it could unravel everything. But I couldn't stop pulling. Maybe I was just greedy. Or maybe Bobby had left me so starved for affection, so eager to be loved, I couldn't stop. Or maybe it was simpler than that. Maybe it wasn't all that complicated. Just maybe, it was because I loved them both. Jesse's mouth was over mine again. His hands swept down to the clasp on the front of my bra. The straps slid down my arms as the bra fell away. Cool air touched my nipples that were hard from Jesse's kisses. I moaned against his mouth as Zach ran hot kisses down my back. His fingers gripped the top of my jeans. He yanked them down. My panties went too. The cool air in the room swept across my wet pussy. Without leaving Jesse's body, I turned around, my back now pressed against him

as Zach lifted his mouth to mine. My fingers gripped Zach's shirt, and I pushed it up. He reached back, his mouth leaving mine just long enough to pull the shirt off. Instantly, my hands smoothed over the hard muscles of his chest. I pulled my mouth from his, my face brushing against his beard as I lowered my lips to his pecs. As I leaned down, to trace Zach's tattoos with my tongue, Jesse ran his tongue over the small of my back. I sucked in a sharp breath as he continued along my ass. Even through the music rumbling around the room, our heavy breathing mixed with our racing heartbeats to make a rhythm all their own. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I should have been taken aback, aghast at what I was doing. I should have, at the very least, been wary how vulnerable I was standing naked between two powerful men, men who were just hours ago filled with anger at each other over the naked girl standing between them. But I felt only desire and security and an overwhelming sense that I never wanted to lose what we had together. I turned around and reached for Jesse's shirt. He pulled it off with one swift move. His eyes were glazed with a hunger that sent a shiver through me. Individually, Zach and Jesse had rekindled feelings and sensations in my body that I'd considered long gone, doused by Bobby's inept, selfish, clumsy ways in bed. Individually, they had both easily brought me to orgasm. But now, with both of them, their raw masculine scents intermingling with the fragrance of desire that permeated the air, I was out of my mind with wanting them. I reached back to touch Zach's face. He kissed my palm and then took hold of my wrists. He held my arms securely as I arched my body toward Jesse. Jesse's long hair feathered over my skin as his mouth ran over my nipples and along my belly. He dropped to his knees in front of me. As Jesse pushed my feet apart, Zach held my arms behind my head, both wrists secured by one strong hand. Zach's hard cock, now free from pants and slick with desire, pushed against my ass, teasing me mercilessly as he drew it along the crack and pressed it against the tight puckered hole. His deep groan rolled over my shoulder as Jesse's low deep growl rumbled along my inner thigh. Jesse peered up at me over the mound of dark hair. I felt his gaze on my body, on my face, but it was nearly impossible to focus. My mind, my entire physical being was focused on my most intimate parts, each one throbbing with the need to be penetrated. My inner core was tightened like a fist, waiting for an explosion, waiting to be assaulted in the sweetest, most excruciating way. And, all the while, I was captive between the two brothers, something that might have terrified in a different place and with different men. But with Zach and Jesse, it was the height of erotic pleasure. It was a heightened sense of desire I had never experienced before, and I was sure I'd never experience it again. Zach continued to rock against me, pressing his cock more firmly against me each time, penetrating my ass a little more with each pass. My head dropped forward. I looked down at the top of Jesse's dark head as he spread my pussy wide with his fingers. His breath cooled the hot cream filling the folds of my pussy. His tongue stroked my clit, and my knees collapsed beneath me. Zach gripped my

wrists to keep me from melting to the floor. His firm hold was the only thing keeping me upright. My head lolled back again, unable to keep straight on my neck. I rested it against Zach's strong shoulder as Jesse massaged my clit with his tongue. Even now, even in this fantasy playing out in the front room of their house, Zach was the one to hold me, keep me secure, keep me from dropping into a whimpering puddle. And Jesse was my light, the one to remind me that life can be crazy fucking pleasure if you just let it. We were locked together physically in a sensual human chain, but they were both independent of each other. I was the connecting link. Zach released my hands, and I dropped my arms. One hand tangled in Jesse's long hair as his thumb strummed my clit, bringing me closer to orgasm. My free hand reached back and wrapped around Zach's cock. His low groan tickled my ear as I moved my hand back and forth along his thick shaft. I whimpered in disappointment as Jesse removed his fingers and tongue from me. He pushed to his feet. While they weren't saying a word to each other, the brothers seemed to be silently communicating. Zach stepped back and Jesse swept me up, into his arms and carried me to the couch. The coffee table stuttered and scraped the wood floor as Zach shoved it out of the way. The empty beer cans rolled off the table and across the floor. Time moved deliciously slow, in contrast to the rapid beat of my pulse. I stretched out naked on the couch as Zach and Jesse removed their pants. They were so different, both incredibly hot in their own way and both impossible to resist. My head had gone past the stage of thinking rationally. We avoided looking each other in the eyes, worried it would break the sexual trance we'd fallen into. For me, it was easier to focus on their massive arms, the hard muscles of their stomachs and their powerful legs. All I could think about was the heat pulsing between my thighs, and the long, rigid cocks pointing at me from both directions. I yanked the faded throw blanket from the couch and pushed it out over the floor. Then I slipped down and knelt on it. Jesse was the first to move forward. For a brief second, it seemed Zach had fallen from the spell. It seemed for that slight moment in time, he had second thoughts. Then he dropped to his knees and took hold of my face. I still couldn't lift my eyes to his face. "Joelle," his voice was ragged and low, "look at me." It took some time, but I looked into his face. He said nothing, but I knew what he was asking. Jesse's tall shadow loomed over us. I peered up at him. His expression mirrored his brother's. This was up to me. It was in my hands. I wanted it. I wanted them. I reached forward, curling my hands around Zach's neck. I kissed him, my tongue rubbing against his, ending it by taking his bottom lip in my teeth and biting him lightly. Then I turned around and took hold of Jesse's hand and pulled it, letting him know I wanted him sitting on the couch. He dropped down, and before I could kiss him, he slammed his mouth over mine. He held me against him and

pushed his mouth against my ear. "Joelle," he whispered. His warm breath fluttered against my hair. I backed up on my knees, jutting my ass toward Zach as I wedged my upper torso between Jesse's legs. Jesse groaned and leaned his head back as I wrapped my fingers around his cock. I rocked forward and my tongue flicked against his heavy sac. As I lost myself in the feel of Jesse's balls and cock in my mouth, Zach's strong hands took hold of my hips. His beard scraped a tantalizing trail down my lower back and over my ass as he kissed my skin. Zach's growl rained down over me as he parted my thighs with his knees. I lifted my mouth over the top of Jesse's cock. As I slid my lips down over it, I pushed my ass back toward Zach. My mouth filled with Jesse, my moan was muffled as Zach pushed his cock inside of me. The intense feeling of making love with both my mouth and my pussy with two men who had become my world, two men who had given me a new chance at happiness, two men who I thought about day and night, made every inch of my body tingle. The music blaring from the radio provided a rhythmic beat. As I ran my lips and tongue along Jesse's cock, I moved back and forth on my knees, bracing myself against Zach as he pumped his cock inside of me. Zach's hand slid around my hip. He reached down between my legs, pushing his fingers between the folds to my clit. I had been so close to coming before I'd even been carried to the couch that my body shuddered as I tried to hold back, not wanting the build-up of tension to end. My mouth suckled around the thick, fleshy tip of Jesse's cock as my hand stroked the base. Jesse's fingers tangled in my hair as he held me over him, pushing against my mouth, his cock reaching the deepest corner of my throat. As Zach's movements increased with frenzied urgency, his finger teased my clit to the point of no return. I lifted my mouth from Jesse's cock and pressed only my lips against it as I whimpered in release. My pussy clamped tight around Zach, holding him deep inside me. His hands gripped my hips tighter, and he pushed into me one last time before withdrawing. He grunted in satisfaction as his hot seed spilled over my ass. Jesse was still heavy lidded and hungry for an ending. I climbed up on his lap, wrapped my arms around his head and held his face against my breasts as I impaled myself on his erection. His fingers gripped my ass hard, spreading me wider as I rose up and down over him. The friction between us once against heated my clit. The sensations from my first orgasm revived, and waves of pleasure overtook me again. Jesse pushed his hips up to meet me, filling me again and again. "Fuck," he growled as he lifted me off of him. His cum sprayed my belly as I collapsed against him. Our ragged breaths slowed as the music thrummed through the room. Jesse

lowered me down to Zach, who placed me gently on the blanket I'd placed on the floor. Zach stretched out next to me, and I pressed my face against his chest. Jesse climbed down and unfurled his long legs out behind me. And there, exhausted, physically and emotionally, sandwiched safely between their hard bodies, I felt fast asleep.

24 JOELLE

up and immediately pressed my fingers against my temples to thwart the I sat throbbing pain. The lacy curtains in the bedroom had never been a great

barrier for the morning sun. Most of the time I didn't mind waking to billowy shadows in the room, but today, they only served to make my head hurt more. The half empty tequila bottle sat on the nightstand. A light whiff of the liquor floated out of the open top. I pressed my hand against my lips, swallowed back the bitter taste in my throat and quickly screwed the top back on. I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I was naked but someone had taken the time to carry my discarded clothes out of the living room. They were piled on the end of the bed. The night had been as clear as it had been a blur. Parts of it still swirled around my head, the tangle of naked legs and arms, and kisses . . . and sex. At one point, it felt as if our bodies had melted together in perfect sensual synergy. That part was hazy. But the part that came in clear, other than the extreme sensation of having a double orgasm, one with each brother, the part that stood out to me was that I had been with both of them, but they had each been alone with me. Each brother had made love to me, completely independent of the other. In my mind, that was the key. That was the hope I held deep in my heart that our unplanned, drunken night hadn't damaged what we had together. I vaguely remembered being picked up by strong arms and carried into my bed. By then the alcohol had begun to wear off, and the cold night air had permeated the old house. I was happy to crawl alone into my warm bed and be alone with my thoughts. In the dark, in the middle of the night, things could sometimes seem bigger or worse or even grander than they actually were. As I'd ducked down under my covers, alone and no longer curled in strong arms, I thought about how lonely I'd been before I jumped on that boxcar. And during the ride in that chilly boxcar, I’d felt enough despair to make me question what I'd done to have so many things in life go wrong. But then fate or destiny or just the freezing temperatures had brought me to Zach's and Jesse's doorstep. It seemed that, for a change, things were going right. I got up and pulled on my clothes. The clang of a hammer hitting hard against steel reverberated across the yard. I closed my eyes against the pain. I walked to the

window. The uneven glow of the forge fire flickered through the open doorway of the shop. It was early, earlier than usual for them to start. The back door snapped shut. Bear trotted ahead of Jesse as he stepped out into the yard, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders up around his ears as if the sound was causing him the same pain. It meant that Zach had gotten out to the shop early and started the fire in the forge. His early evening date with a whiskey bottle had obviously not affected him. Or, at least I hoped that was the case. A dark feeling crept over me now that the sun was up and the shadows and silence of night were no longer creeping about to warp my view and assure me that what had happened was no big deal. It was a new day and everything seemed different in the sunlight. Especially with the cloud of alcohol gone from my head. I took a deep breath and headed out to the kitchen. I grabbed for the coffee pot like it was the magic elixir of life and poured myself a cup. It helped relieve the pain in my head, and it even lightened some of the worry that had settled heavy on my chest. I could hide inside, avoiding both brothers, until Sherry picked me up for work. But that wouldn't do anything except put off that inevitable awkward moment when I had to face them. While it had helped, I couldn't put all the blame on the tequila. I needed to go out to the shop. I would smile and tell them good morning and then everything would be back to normal. Our version of normal anyhow. I was thankful for Bear halting my progress in the yard. It gave me a moment to gather my courage. I stooped down and hugged him. He returned the greeting with a lick. I patted him on the head, stood up and willed my feet forward. Almost from the second I walked inside the shop, something didn't feel right. Zach didn't look up. He continued to pound the hammer. Jesse was on the opposite side of the shop sanding the wood handle he'd been working on for the collector's bowie knife. It was exactly what I could expect to see them each doing on any morning in the shop. Only it wasn't what they were doing but how they were doing it. While Zach always pounded hot steel with the force of a machine, this morning, he was hitting it with enough power that it seemed to reverberate back through his arm, through his body, shaking loose the incredibly tense set of his shoulders. His jaw twitched as if his teeth were clenched as tightly as his shoulders. Jesse was hunched over his work table. He never looked up, even though he knew I was standing there. He too held his shoulders rigid with anger. A cold knot tightened in my stomach. I took a step back, wanting to run as fast and far as I could. I knew I was unraveling this and yet I didn't stop myself. I took another step back and tripped over a pail of coal. My bottom hit the hard floor of the shop. The clamor caught both of their attentions. Zach leaned his hammer next to the anvil. Jesse put down his sandpaper. They both reached me at the same moment. Jesse's hand shot out first, and I grabbed it. At least I'd wiped out the awkwardness of facing them with an embarrassingly clumsy fall on my ass. "You all right?" Zach asked as he grabbed a broom to sweep up the coal I’d

spilled. I brushed the black dust off my jeans. "I'm fine." I reached for the broom. "Here I'll clean that up. You guys are busy." Zach shook his head and continued sweeping. "No, it'll just take a second." He fell silent as he finished his task. I looked up at Jesse. He smiled at me, not his usual wide smile, the one that made his eyes sparkle with life, but a gentle sort of sad smile. It made my heart sink to my stomach. Without a word, Jesse turned and went back to his sandpaper. Zach swept up the coal, seemingly lost in thought. I spun around and walked quickly out of the shop, holding my arms around myself to keep from falling apart. They'd both been polite to me, but it was their body language between each other that had changed. There was a tension between them that was as strong as it was invisible. What the hell had I done? Apparently, I still had a penchant for really bad decisions. I'd pulled that string just a little too far.

25 ZACH

J

esse walked over to the sander where I was smoothing out the guard for my knife. He didn't say a word but handed me the bowie blade he'd been working on. I knew he was asking me to check it. I rubbed my thumbnail along the edge. Experience had allowed me to feel nearly microscopic imperfections, and his knife still had plenty. I shook my head. "Nope." "Fuck," Jesse muttered angrily and went back to his work table. "It's all in the finish," I added, unnecessarily. Jesse was a master, a sloppy master, but he was one of the best, and the last thing he needed was a preachy lesson from me. But I couldn't stop myself. I got back to work, knowing full well that my last statement had stopped him. I could feel his angry gaze on me, but I kept working. "How about you keep your teacher lessons for an apprentice?" Jesse snarled. "My name goes on that knife too. I just want to make sure it's Coltrane quality." "Fuck off." Jesse went back to his stool and started sanding. Jesse and I hadn't said more than five words to each other in four days, since that night. My brother and I had had our differences, shit, a lot of differences, but in the end we were still brothers. That night the three of us were drunk. But it wasn't just the alcohol. We were ready to let the ropes that had held us back from acting on our impulses fall away. And it seemed once that self-control was gone, nothing was going to stop us. Any of us. Through it all, I thought this would just end up a blip, a snag, a night we would eventually just pass off as that night when we were all drunk off our asses. But by the time morning had come and the whiskey was out of my bloodstream, reality hit me hard. What had happened wasn't just going to get pushed into our funny and slightly raunchy stories from the past. Jesse and I had been in situations where we dated the same girl or where we were both at a party, in the same room, making out with our perspective partners. We were not fucking saints, that was for damn sure. But those instances had never meant anything. Those had all become stories to laugh over at a poker game or bar. This had been different. In fact, different was like using drizzle to describe a torrential downpour. After years of being each other's only family, years of being so close we

always knew what the other was thinking, Jesse and I were walking wide berths around each other. We were both grappling with what had happened. The lines in our relationship with Joelle had tangled and things were much more complicated. The only thing that was still clear as glass was that we were both crazy about Joelle. We didn't need words between us to know that we each felt strongly about her. The forge had died down as we both worked hard on our projects, working even harder to avoid each other. Bear came in with a whimper and his tail between his legs as thunder rattled the windows. "Wolves are not afraid of thunder, you big coward." I patted Bear's head. It was wet. In spring, thunderstorms could move in and out before you had a chance to notice. Especially when you were working in a brick building with small dusty windows and a forge bursting with glowing light and roaring loud enough to mute thunder. But we were nearing the end of the day, and the fire in the forge had sputtered out. I walked to the doorway. Not only had heavy black clouds moved in, but a brutal wind shook the trees around the property. Rain fell in heavy drops as lightning split the sky. I looked toward the house. It was dark. I turned back to Jesse. "Hey, were you supposed to pick up Joelle from work? She never asked me." Jesse spun around on his stool. "She didn't ask me. I just assumed you were picking her up." He hopped off his perch. "She's not home?" "Shit." I raced to the shed where we kept the bicycles. I slid open the door and looked inside. Jesse was already behind me. "She took her bike." I pulled out my phone and called her. After five rings, it went to voicemail. "Hey, Joelle, give me a call if you get this." We both raced to the truck. Jesse pulled out his phone. "The store closed an hour ago. She should have been home by now," he added, unhelpfully. My heart was already racing a mile a minute, and I didn't need a dozen scary scenarios running through my head. We climbed into my truck, and I threw it into gear. The tires spun for a second in the mud pooling beneath them. I jammed my foot harder on the gas, and we shot out of the driveway and onto the road. "She usually takes Briar Street because the grade isn't as steep." Jesse leaned forward to see through the condensation taking over my windshield. I cranked up the defrost, but my truck was old and it responded slowly to requests for basics like heat and defrost. "Give Sherry a call. Maybe they went somewhere together." "Good idea." We hadn't spoken much in days, but it seemed we'd found that common interest that could bring us back together, as two brothers who had tackled any shit life threw at us as a team. The ironic thing about it was that the common interest was also the thing that had us avoiding each other all week. "Hey, Sherry, is Joelle with you?" Jesse's brows pinched together as he listened.

Not a good sign. "Shit. Yeah, we're out looking for her right now. Yeah, I'll let you know when we find her." Jesse hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket. I slowed the truck down. We both sat forward, searching the side of the road. Wind sprayed rain hard against the windshield, making visibility even worse. I swerved to avoid a fallen branch in the road. "This is a bad storm. Why the hell didn't she ask one of us to give her a ride?" "The storm came in fast. She didn't know it was coming." Jesse's hand shot forward. "There!" I yanked the truck to the side of the road. Joelle was walking the bike, looking about as cold and wet as one girl could look. It tugged at my heart. Seeing her like that brought me back to the first night when we’d caught her stealing off with Jesse's coat. She had looked so lost and so sad that night. She was wearing that same expression now. Only I don't think it had to do with the fact that she'd gotten stranded in a thunderstorm. Jesse and I jumped out of the truck and reached her at the same time. Her shoulders shook with a sob, and she dropped the bike. She jumped into Jesse's arms. She was wet and crying and shivering from cold and it could have been that she just headed for arms, any arms for comfort. It could have been that. Or maybe, just maybe, it was a conscious choice.

26 JESSE

out with Junior as he plunked his big fingers on the adding machine I hung tallying up his take for the night. Joelle was near the makeshift stage talking

to a few patrons and the band as they put away their instruments. It was her first night on stage. She had been nervous as hell as I drove her to Petty Thief. At one point, I was sure she'd beg me to turn around. But she didn't. And since she had the crowd, me included, mesmerized the whole night, I was sure she wouldn't be nearly as nervous next time. Sundance came out of the bathroom and headed over. "She did great. People really liked the live music. Guess this place is going to be crowded as hell all the time on the weekend. Not sure how I feel about that." I nodded. "Yeah, I hadn't thought about that." Sundance looked up toward the stage for a second. "So, should we talk about the elephant in the room." He looked back at me. "Or should I say—the big, badass elephant not in the room?" I shrugged. "He said he had some work to finish." Sundance's brow lifted. "Work? Tonight?" "That's what he said. You want to question him, go right ahead. He's hardly talking to me." As soon as I said it, I wanted to erase it. Normally, Sundance knew everything that was going on in my life. Zach's too. Just like we knew everything that was going on in his. But I'd been keeping tight lipped about shit lately. Mostly because I just didn't want to talk about it. "Why the hell aren't you guys talkin'? Did you get in a fight?" I didn't answer. "Hey, don't think I haven't noticed that something's going on. Ever since that night when you cancelled the game of War, you both have been acting like someone shoved hot pokers up your asses. It's not that unusual for Zach to act that way occasionally, but I never see you like that." "Guess I'm getting older and grumpier." "Bullshit." He tapped the counter to get Junior's attention. "Congratulations on that band. Looks like it's going to work out great for you. I'd like to put in a request for a permanently reserved table in that back corner."

Junior laughed. "You bet. And I'd like to put in a request for a Victoria’s Secret model to serve me breakfast in bed every morning." Sundance held out his arms. "But I'm your best customer." He turned back to me. "Well later, bro. And, sorry that my sister is always so fucking right with that sixth sense of hers." I stared at him but decided he didn't need a response. Especially because I just didn't have one. He clapped me on the shoulder. "Later Joelle," he called across the room. Joelle waved and said good night to her band. She walked casually toward me, holding back what looked like an explosive grin. She got halfway across the bar and squealed as her feet took off. She ran right into my arms. I picked her up and swung her around once. "You had everyone on their fucking feet, Joey. It was awesome." "People did seem to be enjoying themselves." Her gaze circled the room and her smile faded. She turned back to me. "He didn't show?" The disappointment in her face was the polar opposite of the face she was wearing when she dashed across the floor to me. Zach had been acting the first class asshole all week, but I hadn't expected him to skip out on Joelle's first night on stage. "He said he wanted to finish that knife tonight. Guess the customer was anxious to get it." I knew the excuse was bullshit. He had the rest of the weekend to finish it because it wouldn't even ship out until Monday, but I kept that detail from Joelle. Zach and I had barely talked since we'd all gotten drunk and naked together in the living room. Since Joelle came into our life, there had been so much going on between all of us, things that Zach and I’d known damn well were happening but up until that night, we'd done a damn good job at ignoring them. Now there was no way to ignore anything. We had both fallen for Joelle. The one strand that was still tangled, the thing that was still unclear was how Joelle felt. When Zach and I had driven out in the rain, both scared that something had happened to her, it seemed that we had cracked some of the ice that had frozen between us. But after we found her, standing on the side of the road, that ice barrier solidified again. Junior slapped a nice pile of money on the counter behind us. "Your take, Joelle. The crowd never thinned tonight, thanks to you." He lifted his phone out of his pocket. "Halfway through the show, I posted a video, and it's going crazy with likes. Greg put flyers up all over the place and added the show to our website." He motioned to the money. "So that pile will just keep growing. If you need an advance, just let me know." Joelle picked up the money and folded it. "Thanks, Junior. I'm excited. I think this is going to work out great. I wasn't sure if I could sing in front of a crowd, but turns out, I kind of liked it. I guess I'm more of a ham than I thought." Junior looked around. "Where's Zach? I haven't seen him all night." Joelle's shoulders sank again with the reminder that Zach hadn't come to her first performance. "He's busy with work." I put my arm out for Joelle to take. "We'll see you later,

Junior." Joelle and I walked out to the car. It was always easy to know when she had something on her mind. I reached for the door handle, but she turned to me. "Jesse, that night . . ." Her gaze dropped to the ground. None of us had talked about that night. Ever. I knew we had all done a lot of thinking about it, but we'd all rolled up our thoughts and kept them tightly to ourselves. She looked back up at me. I saw her throat move as she swallowed. "I don't have any regrets. I know that's terrible, and it makes me sound loose or immoral or whatever. And I know, deep down, that I should feel regret. But I don't." I was about to speak, but she shook her head and placed her hand on my arm. "Or I should say, I didn't at the time." She took a deep breath as she looked around the parking lot, trying to gather her words. Her brown eyes were back on me, and they looked shiny with tears. "At the time it felt natural, real. I was buzzed on tequila, but I can still remember thinking that it felt real. It was like this amazing conclusion to a wild, slightly unbelievable story." She dropped her gaze again. "But now—" Her shoulders shook. I wrapped my arms around her. "I have no regrets. Zach has no regrets. It happened. It's done." She pulled her face away from my chest and wiped at her eyes. "No, you and Zach aren't talking. I never wanted to come between you. Ever. Having you two angry at each other is the worst possible ending to that night." "We're fine, Joelle. Zach has just been in a bad mood this week. We both have been. It's typical brother shit. Don't worry about it." I opened the car. She climbed in, not looking the slightest bit convinced. I couldn't blame her. The words had come out of my mouth, and I wasn't convinced either. Joelle sat silently in her seat as I drove home. The entire way, I went through a million things I needed to tell Zach when I saw him. We needed to stop strutting around each other like pissed off idiots and talk this shit out. I looked over at Joelle. She'd had this awesome night, where she'd gained another piece of herself back. She gained back some of the confidence that asshole had erased. The last thing I wanted was to shred the happiness and stability she'd found here in Tanglewood. Who was I fucking kidding? The last thing I wanted was for her to walk out of my life. Whatever the hell was going through Zach's head, everything was pretty fucking clear in mine. I wanted Joelle in my life. I turned down our quiet, remote road. The kitchen light was on, and the shop was dark. Zach had finished his knife. As Joelle and I crossed the yard to the house, the million things I wanted to tell him bounced around my brain again. By the time I reached the porch, I'd made the firm decision that I was going to tell my brother just how I felt about Joelle. Dad had brought us up to keep our feelings under lock and key because he claimed they would just get in the way or cause trouble. Maybe that was our problem. We walked inside, and Bear lifted his big head from his kitchen pillow. He

dropped it again, deciding it was too late in the night for a proper greeting. The knife Zach had been working on was sitting on the table, its masterfully crafted blade glistening under the light. I walked to the table to give it a better look. That was when I spotted the note next to it. Joelle came up behind me and read it too. 'Jes, Can you mail this off Monday? The address is on the cork board in the shop. I needed some time away. Tell Joelle not to worry. Later, Zach.' Before I could say a word or even look at her, Joelle ran from the kitchen and shut the bedroom door behind her.

27 JOELLE

J

esse had spent most of the weekend working in the shop. I was glad to have both my day job and the singing gig to help to keep me occupied. Jesse had acted as if it was no big deal that Zach had taken off, without any warning or details. But I knew he was just putting on a show for me. We had both tried calling him, but his phone was going straight to voicemail. I was sure Zach would return after the weekend, and while he never said it, I knew that's what Jesse thought too. Only Monday morning came and went, and there was no sign of Zach and no returned calls. I had insisted on taking my bike to work. The sun was shining and I knew the brisk ride would help clear some of the dark mood from my head. I sure was great at showing my thanks. The two brothers had taken me in, given me food and security and literally the clothes off their backs, and I'd repaid them by breaking up their small, tight family. I reached the train tracks and stopped at the place where I had jumped off the boxcar just a few months earlier. I stopped and put my feet down, straddling my bike. My heart was still pumping from the ride to town. I closed my eyes as the breeze coming off the adjacent fields cooled my face. I thought back to that horrid day, the day when I'd finally gotten the courage to leave Bobby. It was hard for me to face the embarrassing reality that I'd let it go on so long. But then I was young, and I had no one. After Lolly died, I was so utterly alone, I latched onto Bobby and never let go. "Oh, Lolly," I said to myself, "no lemon chiffon pie this time. Almost. But now I've made a mess of things." "Joelle?" A voice popped me out of my silly little monologue. I turned around. Sherry was walking up behind me. "I looked out the shop window and saw you standing here. Is everything all right?" I took a deep breath. "No. It's not." A sob followed. Sherry put her arm around me for a hug. "Come on. The shop can stay closed for a few minutes. Let's go sit at the park and talk."

I climbed off the bike and pushed it along with us as we headed to Coltrane Park, my first stop in Tanglewood. It was Monday, so the only people at the park were a young mom and her two toddlers playing on the slide. I rested my bike against the drinking fountain, and Sherry and I sat on the bench in the back corner of the tiny park. "I don't want you to lose business because of my stupid meltdown." She waved off my concern. "The sidewalks are quiet this morning, and besides, I needed to get away for a few minutes. The creepiest guy came in this morning. I mean he didn't look creepy, or, at least not in the conventional sense, but something about him made the hair stand up on my arms." Sherry looked shaken by the incident, and she was not easily thrown off her game. "What did he do? Did he try and steal something?” "No, if he had it might have been less unsettling. He came in and said hello but then he just stood in the shop and looked around for a few minutes. I asked if I could help him, but he just shook his head and left. Anyway, enough about that." She took my hand. "My brother told me that Zach went out of town unexpectedly." I nodded. "It's my fault. Jesse, Zach and I—" I stopped. As critical as that night had been, I saw no reason to tell Sherry what had happened. It was something deep and personal with emotional strands in every direction, so I decided to keep it to myself. "Everything was going well, mostly because we had avoided trying to define our relationships with each other. Stupidly, I thought we could all just go on as a happy trio. I realize now that I was being foolish, and as much as I hate to admit it, greedy. I just wanted to keep both of them to myself. I figured I had more than enough love for the both of them. Now Zach is gone. Jesse and Zach need each other. I'm afraid I've done irreparable damage to their relationship." "First of all, and this might sting a bit, yes, you've been foolish and a touch greedy. But then, considering the relationship you ran from, no one can blame you for that. You had a double dose of affection coming to make up for all the crap you went through." I leaned back against the bench and rubbed my arms to warm them. I stared out at the quirky, artsy town with its jewel-toned awnings, clean white sidewalks and forest backdrop. I'd grown incredibly fond of the place. After just a few months living in Tanglewood, it was easy to see why people never left the place or their family trades behind. I couldn't see myself getting on a bus and leaving. Even with everything that had happened, I felt that I'd finally found a place to be happy, a place to belong. "What the heck do I do now? You've been telling me to regain some independence. I'm hoping if I move out, it'll help Zach and Jesse get their lives back to normal." "I know of a few places that might work. You know, Joelle, I'm not telling you that you shouldn't be part of Jesse's and Zach's lives. Even a complete stranger could stand in the room with you three and know how tight the connection is

between all of you." A few women were looking in the shop window. Sherry stood up and I followed. I grabbed my bike, and we headed across the park. "What should I do? How should I fix this? I'm lost." Sherry stopped and turned to me. "You need to dig deep, Joelle. You came here an emotional wreck. Instead of having time to heal from that, you landed right into a situation where you were suddenly overwhelmed with attention and admiration and kindness. Look past the fact that they are both great guys and ask yourself— which one do you love and which one do you love?" Her emphasis on the last love made it easy to understand what she was asking. I stood there and thought about her question. I'd never really asked myself that same question. Maybe it was because I thought I had no answer to it. But as my mind drifted back to all the time I'd spent with Zach and Jesse, an answer came through the mist. I looked at Sherry. "Jesse has been like this magic happiness drug. Even on the dreariest days, he makes me smile. And with Zach, I feel like I could curl up in his arms and be safe and content for the rest of my life." My eyes swept down to the ground, then I lifted them to her. Sherry was not much older than me but she had an incredible sense and understanding of the world. She really did have a sixth sense and I could see it in her face. She knew. Before I'd even figured it out, she knew. "After everything that has happened in my life, it seems I've learned how to guard my heart. I love them both. But Zach's heart has never been there for the taking. It belongs to someone else. He's fiercely loyal to his brother and he's even more loyal to her, the woman who took his soul with her when she left town." I took a decent breath for the first time since that fateful and spectacular night. "All this time, my intuition has been working overtime to keep me safe from heartbreak. I didn't realize it until just now when you asked that. Jesse. I love Jesse." I hugged her. "Thank you for that." "Sometimes that sixth sense comes in handy." We continued on to the shop. "Sometimes it's a curse though. But you said something just now that has what Anthony calls my 'little troublemaker gears' working overtime." She pointed to her head. "I've got an idea. But I'm not going to say a word about it yet." Two more women had gathered out front of the shop. Sherry sighed. "Guess it's going to be a busy morning after all." We reached the sidewalk, and while I waited with the customers for Sherry to unlock the door, my mind raced. Then it hit me. That day Jesse and Zach came out to find me in the storm, I was so relieved to see them. Then I jumped into Jesse's arms. They both reached me at the same time, both wet and worried and relieved to find me all right. And without even thinking about it, I jumped into Jesse's arms. And Zach watched.

28 JESSE

down at the knife. It was getting close, and for the first time, I was I stared fucking proud of my work. All these years, Zach had been driving me to hone

my skills, to find that flawless perfection hiding in every knife. Now I knew what the hell he'd been hounding me about all this time. I stretched and yawned. Joelle had left a light on for me in the kitchen. Zach's leaving had hit her hard. As much as I wanted the jerk to come back home, Joelle's reaction to his leaving was the thing that really stuck in my craw. I'd allowed myself to believe that Joelle loved me like I loved her. But it seemed her heart was broken, and it had nothing to do with the younger Coltrane brother. I had started to think Zach had left just to prove a point, to show me how much Joelle loved him. At least the kick in the ass revelation had spurred me on to get the knife done and prove to myself and my brother that I really was a master like John James Coltrane. Even though Dad and Zach had insisted I had it in me, it was something I'd always denied. I'd decided to stop fucking around and either prove them right or wrong. And now I was feeling pretty damn good about my abilities, at least when it came to being a bladesmith. Sweeping a woman off her feet was obviously a skill my brother had mastered better than me. Joelle and I had somehow managed to avoid any long conversations or time shared in the same room. It seemed she was waiting for my brother to return. Bear looked up from his pillow as I walked into the kitchen. I patted him on the head and went down the hallway to the bathroom. I washed up, brushed my teeth and headed down the hall to my bedroom. I stopped at Joelle's door and listened for a sound, something that might tell me she was awake. The room was quiet. I went to my room, stripped off my clothes and climbed into bed. Fatigue from a day and night of work dragged me right into a deep sleep, until a hand touched my arm. A familiar voice pulled me out of my drowsy state. "Jesse." Joelle stood over my bed, staring down at me with those brown eyes that had followed me into many dreams these past few months. She was wrapped in my flannel shirt, a detail that instantly made me hard. Her lips parted as if she would speak. No words came. I lifted the corner of my blanket, and she climbed in next to me. Joelle rested her

head on the pillow and faced me. She reached up and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'm sorry this all went so spectacularly wrong," she said quietly. I smiled. "You know, that first night when you came into our lives, after we decided you should stay, both Zach and I said 'after all, how much trouble can she be?'" She laughed weakly. "Hey." I pushed her face up to look at me. "That day, I told Zach that heaven had dropped a shiny star on our doorstep, and I stand by those words." Joelle scooted toward me and pressed her warm soft lips against mine. She was here, in my bed, with her body tucked against me. It was time. "Joelle, I know we let this get out of control. But just so you know, the one thing that has remained constant is that I'm nuts about you. I understand if you don't share those feelings, but I just needed you to know that I love you." "Thank goodness," she whispered and kissed me again. She sat up, and I watched as she unbuttoned the shirt, my shirt. She pushed it off her shoulders. In the shadows of the room, her beautiful breasts pointed at me, inviting me to touch them. I reached up and drew a circle around each nipple, causing them to tighten into rose colored buds. Joelle climbed over me, straddling me with her long legs. Her pussy was already hot and moist as she rubbed it over my stomach and scooted back so that my cock was nestled tightly against her ass. I reached up and took hold of her face, pulling her mouth down to mine. She moved farther back, and my tongue drove into her mouth as my cock drove into her pussy. She mewled against my mouth as I filled her. I moved my hips, slowly pumping my cock into her as her sweet lips pressed against my mouth. She sat up and braced her hands on my chest, making my cock go deeper as she writhed over me. Her breasts bounced above me. I reached up to cup them in my hands, lathing my callused thumbs over her nipples. "Fuck, baby, I could stay buried inside your pussy forever." "Promise." The word came out breathy and faint, but it made the blood surge through my veins. I pumped harder and faster. Her fingers clutched at my chest as she pushed back, meeting my thrusts with her own. Our bodies slammed together, making the bed smack against the wall and the floor beneath us creak. I grabbed hold of her hips, holding her firmly over me. She sat straight up. I watched as she stretched her arms back behind her head, pushing her breasts up high. They bounced erotically as she absorbed each of my blows with her pussy. Her eyes drifted shut, and her lips parted with a moan. "Fuck yes, Jesse. Yes." Her legs squeezed against me and her nipples tightened with a pink blush as her pussy clenched around my cock. "Oh, Jesse," she sighed as the shuddering waves slowed. She opened her eyes. A smile tilted her lips as she braced her hands against my chest again. "Harder, baby," she said against my mouth. I gripped her hips and pushed into her fast and hard, pumping small sounds

from her lips as I slammed into her over and over. My body clenched and I pulled her off of me, as I came. She leaned down and kissed me. "Guess we're going to need some birth control if we're going to make this a regular thing." Her long hair hung around my face as she gazed down at me. "Are we going to make it a regular thing?" I stretched my arms up and pushed her hair back off her face. "That all depends on what you mean by regular." She sat up and traced some of the lines of my chest tattoos. Her lips twisted as she considered it. "Once a day would be good." "Huh, only once a day?" She dropped down next to me, ducked under my arm and cuddled against me. "Well, maybe twice on weekends." She scooted even closer. We lay there in the quiet, dark room, listening to the crickets outside. She turned and rested her head on my chest. "I wish Zach would come home." I curled my arm tighter around her. "Me too."

29 JOELLE

ear trotted into the kitchen with his snout held high in the air, his nose B twitching excitedly at the smell of sizzling bacon. Jesse followed behind with almost the same gestures, only his nose wasn't preceded by a long snout. I laughed. "If ever there was a chance to record my million hit video for YouTube that was it. The two of you look like you have tiny bacon stars floating around your eyes." Jesse grabbed a cup of coffee. "Bear and I have similar tastes, in bacon . . ." He wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed the side of my neck as I concentrated on my task of frying bacon. "And women. That dog knew from the start that you were the woman he wanted in his life. He never warms up to anyone, but he took to you as if you were—" I turned my head and looked up at him. "Made of bacon?" "I was trying to think of something a dog might worship. I guess bacon works." He sat down with his coffee. His long legs splayed out beneath the table. "I've got to go over and help Sundance this morning. He's trying to rebuild an old Indian motorcycle." I placed a plate of food in front of him. He sat forward and picked up a strip of bacon. "I'm almost finished with the bowie knife." "I noticed you worked late last night." I shrugged. "I suppose that was made clear when I tiptoed into your room and climbed into your bed." "A nice way to finish the work day if I do say so." He bit off a chunk of bacon and tossed a second piece to Bear, who sucked it out of the air and swallowed it. "How does the knife look? Collector quality?" Jesse nodded and sat back with a satisfied smile. "I think I would make my great granddad proud." "I'm excited to hear it." I forked up some eggs. "Zach will be proud too." "Yeah, that jerk. All this time I thought he was just bitchin' at me to be annoying, you know, like an older brother. But he knew I had it in me." We both grew quiet, each of us thinking our own thoughts as we scrambled the food around our plates. I put my fork down, suddenly not as hungry as I thought. "Should we be

worried?" Jesse didn't answer at first, which made me, of course, worry. "I think I might know where he went. It came to me last night when I was working. There's this woman, she's a young widow whose husband died logging on a mountaintop. She grew up here in Tanglewood and went to school with Sherry. She lives on the other side of the mountain range now, where she and her husband built a cabin. It's a friends with benefit kind of thing. Zach hasn't gone to see her in awhile. Her husband died about the same time Sage left him, so Zach went there a lot in the beginning. They seemed to find comfort in each other's heartbreak. Nothing ever came of it. They just get together every once in awhile. I think he might be there." Immediately, even though I was feeling a pang of jealousy that Zach had gone off to find comfort in another woman's arms, I felt relief knowing that he was not alone. "Hey, Joey, don't worry. We'll get this all straightened out when Zach comes back." "I think it's more straightened out than you realize. Zach knows." Jesse looked across the table at me. "How the hell? Shit, up until last night, I just figured you were distraught because Zach was gone and . . ." "I am distraught. I think I caused him to leave. That day when you two found me walking my bike during the storm, I ran to your arms. Honestly, I hadn't even made a conscious choice to do it. I just saw you with that cute look of concern on your face and I rushed for your arms. Zach left after that." I picked up my plate and scraped the eggs into Bear's bowl. Jesse followed me to the sink with his dishes. "Zach has given his heart to someone." I turned on the sink. "He knows it too. He just needs to figure out what to do about it." "You sure do have us Coltrane boys all figured out." He kissed me. "I'll be back in a few hours." "Say hi to Sundance for me." I puttered in the kitchen for another fifteen minutes, cleaning out some old food from the fridge and drying the dishes. The sun was bright today, giving the towering evergreens surrounding the property an emerald glow. I had to work on memorizing song lyrics for tonight's show, but I decided there was time for a walk. Bear seemed to read my mind. He'd cleaned up all the leftover eggs and stood at the back door wagging his tail to go out. "I'll get on my shoes and join you in a second." I opened the door, and he trotted outside. I walked into the bedroom. I'd mentioned to Jesse more than once that I was planning to move out regardless of how things turned out. I needed a place of my own, and Jesse and I needed a new start on this relationship. As much as I enjoyed living in their house, I looked forward to my independence. It had been a long time coming. I tied my shoes and headed to the back door. As I opened it, I heard Bear's low growl roll across the yard. It seemed he had trapped another squirrel on the roof of

the shed and had decided to torture it for a bit. I bounded down the back steps and headed in the direction of the shed. I rounded the house and stopped cold. My heart slammed against my ribs as my breath lodged in my lungs. Bobby turned his attention away from the snarling wolf hybrid for a second. His friend, Tim, a guy he played football with in high school and who was as big as he was stupid was standing behind Bobby, looking equally freaked out by the growling dog. As Bobby turned my direction, I spotted the gun in his hand. It was something he'd begun carrying when bookies were after him trying to collect gambling debts. "Joelle, if you want to keep this dog alive, you should put him in that shed. Because if he takes one step toward me, I'm shooting his head off." Just hearing the sound of Bobby's voice sent an ice cold chill through me. Fear for Bear's safety got my feet moving from the spot they'd been frozen to. I hurried over to Bear. "C'mon, boy, it's all right. C'mon." It took a few more minutes of coaxing before Bear listened. He walked into the shed, and I shut the door. Bear immediately started barking and scratching at the door. As terrified as I felt, I was relieved Bear was safe. I turned back around. "Why the hell are you here, Bobby? Better yet, how the hell did you find me?" His arrogant laugh was more of a snort. It was a sound I'd always hated. I took a breath as he stuck the gun in the back of his waistband. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of the pocket on his shirt. Before he even unfolded it, I recognized it as the flyer Junior had printed for the band. He stared at the paper. "This band has a pretty singer who looks just like you. Not that I needed the flyer. The video of you singing in that dive is all over the fucking internet. I guess you thought you could just take off without a word. After all I did for you, you owe me." "All you did for me?" It was my turn for an angry laugh. "Every minute with you was pure hell. When I saw that boxcar pass by, I thought it's time to leave this monster behind for good." His sneer made me want to jump at him and pummel him for every shitty thing he’d done to me. "I see you found some suckers to take you in. Apparently, two brothers who are well known in town. Didn't take us long to find out where you worked and where you lived." "You were at my work yesterday. You were the creepy guy who came in to the shop. Shit, I should've figured that out when I heard the word creepy. Well, Jesse and Zach will be here any minute, so you should get out of here. And please don't come back." I lifted my chin and hurried past them. Bobby lunged out, grabbed my arm. Tim loomed behind us like a brick wall. "I figure you're making some sweet money singing, so I'll take what you owe me. Then I might consider leaving here without putting my handprint on your face." His lurid gaze raked over me. "Or on some other part of your body."

I'd been under this beast's control for so long that I still hadn't forgiven myself for letting it happen. It was a piece of my life that I would never get back. I wanted badly to erase him from my memory forever. My time in Tanglewood had begun that painstaking process. I'd just started to feel like a free, happy human again, but seeing Bobby had renewed all my hatred and disgust for him. But I was no longer his mental and physical prisoner. I was free. I looked him straight in the face. "You fucking pig, I will see you in jail if you don't release me right now." "Give me some money, and I'll think about walking away from you. Nah, on second thought, those lips were always hard to ignore." He yanked my arm hard enough that it felt as if my shoulder was about to pop from its socket. I cried out in pain. I swung my free hand toward him and gouged his face. Bear's loud, angry barks rattled the small shed. Bobby looked back with fright to make sure the dog hadn't gotten loose. With his attention elsewhere, I pulled my arm free. I stumbled forward a few steps and slammed directly into Tim. I knew Tim to be a massively built bully who used his size to scare people. He was also stupid enough to still think Bobby deserved admiration like he had in high school, and because of that, he basically did anything Bobby asked of him. His arms were like big meaty hooks gripping me. There was no way to pull away from his grasp. My first instinct was to slam my foot down hard on his. I went heel first into the top of his foot. He yelled out, and his first instinct followed. His hand flung across my face, knuckles first. My brain reverberated in my skull. Everything went dark for a second before the searing pain took over. I felt my stomach lurch and nausea swept over me. My cheek and the side of my head throbbed. My vision hadn't cleared, but my survival instincts kicked in. I brought my knee up, planning to land a good thump on his balls, when my arm was wrenched hard pulling me away from Tim. Bobby grabbed me against him. Even though it was happening in real time, everything after that felt as if it was moving in slow motion. The cold, hard barrel of a gun pushed against my temple. Bobby's stale booze breath wafted across my face, bringing back the waves of nausea. I was still in a sickened daze as I watched Tim drop to his knees, a tight grimace on his face and trying to clutch his back. I blinked twice at the tall figure standing behind him, wielding a long knotted branch from the firewood pile. "Jesse," I sobbed, unable to stop the surge of emotion. Bobby's grip on my arm tightened as he held me in front of him like a human shield and kept the gun against my head. There had been many times I'd felt scared shitless when I was with Bobby, many times when I felt his temper and strength would be the lethal combo to end my life. But the gun against my head took my fear to a whole new level. Everything I cared about flashed before me, Lolly, wonderful Lolly who died of a gunshot. Would I suffer the same fate? I was equally terrified that something would happen to Jesse. Jesse kept his eyes on me, supporting me with his courageous gaze, as he moved

closer. My heart was pounding so loud, I was sure everyone in Tanglewood could hear it. "Let her go, and I'll let you walk out of here without incident." Jesse took another step toward us. "Stop there or she's dead." Bobby shoved the gun harder against my temple. Tim had regained his breath and pushed to his feet. He lumbered like a giant angry troll toward Jesse. "Jesse, watch out!" Tim's giant fists arced through the air as Jesse spun around to defend himself. It wasn't a direct hit, but Tim clipped Jesse's shoulder hard enough to throw him off balance. Before he could regain it, Tim's massive shoe plowed into Jesse's chest. He landed hard on his back, and I heard him suck in air. The wind had been knocked out of him. "No!" I screamed as Tim lifted that same monstrous foot. As he brought it down to stomp on Jesse's chest, Jesse rolled out of the way. Tim fell forward to one knee. Jesse jumped up and kicked him straight in the face. Blood sprayed from Tim's nose and mouth. It seemed as if the ground beneath my feet shook as he fell back. Jesse was at least fifty pounds lighter than the overstuffed moose he was fighting, but he gave it to Tim good. His fist doubled down on the damage his kick had done. Tim looked as if he was seeing stars as he struggled to his feet. As Jesse drew back, Tim seemed to have shaken loose the dizziness. He roared as he lunged at Jesse and took him down to the ground. His full weight landed directly on top of Jesse. As Jesse struggled to breathe, Tim plowed his fist into his face. He drew back to hit Jesse again. I screamed and swung my leg back to strike Bobby's knee with my heel. "Fucking bitch!" Bobby squeezed his fingers so tight around my arm I was sure my bones would break. The edge of the gun ground against my temple as he growled against my ear. "Maybe I'll just take you into that shitty old house and fuck you while Tim pulverizes your pretty friend.” His mouth pressed against my neck, but he pulled it away quickly and yelled out. From the side of my eye I could see the gun fly away from his hand. Then his hand disappeared behind him. The hand nearly breaking my arm fell away too. I looked back. Bobby's face was red with pain and as he dropped to his knees, I saw the reason for his sudden change of heart. "Zach!" I cried. Zach shot me a wink and then returned to his task of causing Bobby horrible pain. He had Bobby's arm wrenched up in a completely unnatural position, and he took great pleasure in wrenching it higher. The turn in events had pulled Tim's attention away from Jesse, who was still on the ground, bloodied and bruised. Tim raced toward Bobby and Zach, with a look of murder in his eyes. It seemed his blind loyalty to Bobby had never dimmed. Stupid,

stupid man. I shoved my foot out as Tim raced past. He stumbled forward clumsily, his big head and bulbous arms pulling him forward even faster. Zach shoved Bobby right into his staggering friend. Their heads smacked against each other, and the cracking sound that followed made both Zach and me grimace. The hit was hard enough to cause Bobby to face plant into the hard dirt. But Tim had a little more flab around his big head. He fell to his knees, stunned by the collision, but still very much conscious. Zach pointed down at Bobby. "I take it this is the asshole you ran from." I nodded. Tears flowed so fast now that I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to contain the hurricane of emotions rushing through me. Bobby was hardly moving, but Zach kicked him hard in the side. Bobby groaned in pain. Tim was shaking off those same damn stars again as he tried to figure out just what the hell had happened. I spun around and ran over to Jesse. I knelt down next to him. He opened up his eyes and squinted in pain as he peered up at me, trying hard to get his focus. "Did I just hear my brother crack some heads open?" "You sure did," I sobbed. I took the edge of my shirt and tried to wipe away some of the blood from his mouth. Zach walked over and lowered his hand to Jesse. He took it, and with some effort, he sat up. Jesse shifted his jaw from side to side. "That beefy fucker has a powerful right hook." Tim pushed to his feet, looking out of it, but then that was sort of his usual look. Zach pointed down at Jesse. "Hey, you big ugly ball of clay, did you do this to his face?" The obvious challenge seemed to put some wind back in Tim's sails. He straightened his big shoulders, but his smug grin was thwarted by the deep cut in his lip. "Sure as fuck did." He pointed to his flattened nose. "He did this to me." Zach walked toward him. "Yeah? Looks like a fucking improvement. But, what the fuck, let's put another Coltrane stamp on that mug." Zach's fist flew so fast and the impact was so explosive with blood and the sound of cracking teeth and bones that it took me a second to believe it happened. Tim crumpled like a big balloon losing all of its air. Bobby had come to enough to begin a belly crawl across the dirt toward his discarded gun. His right arm looked loose, as if it was no longer attached. Which, in a sense, it wasn't. Zach walked past him and picked up the gun long before Bobby reached the end of his painful journey. I had to admit it was awesome seeing the man suffer. Zach walked toward Bobby. It was clear that he wasn't done with him. Jesse had been leaning on me, but he regained his balance. "Zach, wait. I haven't had a crack at him yet." He took a few wavering steps and then marched toward Bobby. Bobby sat up and scooted back on his ass as Jesse approached him. Jesse crouched down next to him and pointed at me. "You see that angel

standing there? If I ever catch you even ten fucking miles from her, I'm going to kill you." Jesse shot an elbow back into Bobby's face. He fell back and covered his nose, writhing in pain. Sirens sounded in the distance. "About fucking time," Zach said. "I called them on my way around the back of the property. I was pulling up to the house, and I saw this ugly scene unfolding. I decided to circle around back. Surprise attack." I ran to him and hugged him. "I'm so glad you came back home. In fact, your timing couldn't be better." "I'll say. I needed to do a little thinking and soul searching." "Jesse thought maybe you were visiting an old friend, and—" Zach rubbed his swollen knuckles as a faint smile turned up his moustache. "Yeah, I was doing some of that too." I took Zach's hand and led him to where Jesse was standing. Then I took hold of each of their hands. "Hey, Jesse, how did you know to come back?" I asked. Jesse wiped the blood off the side of his mouth with his thumb. "Sherry, of course. I reached Sundance's place, and Sherry called me looking for you. She said you weren't answering your phone and she was worried. So I raced back." A sad and weary bark rattled the shed door. Poor Bear had long given up on getting free from his cage. We'd forgotten all about him. "I wondered where the hell our wolf was when all this was going down." Zach walked to the shed, and Bear came bounding out. Both bloodied and half-conscious men stirred when they heard Bear bark. I hugged Bear. "I was afraid they'd hurt him, so I locked him in the shed." The police pulled up to the property, and Zach went to meet them. "Fuck," Bobby growled. "Why'd you have to call them?" "Think they know about the liquor store robbery?" Tim asked. "No, you fucking idiot," Bobby snarled. "Why the hell would cops know about a robbery?" I couldn't hold back a laugh. "Shut up, Joelle. This is all your fucking fault," Bobby sneered at me. His angry tone brought Bear to my feet. Bear sat and showed his long fangs to Bobby. "Bobby, I hope you spend the rest of your fucking life being as miserable as I was living with you these past few years." I turned to Jesse and used my thumb to wipe some of the dirt away from his bloodied face. "Let's get you an ice pack." "I think your kisses will feel a lot better than ice." I took his hand. "You think? Let's go see if that's true." I took his hand and we walked to the house.

30 ZACH

the bowie knife Jesse made in my hand. Everything about it felt smooth I held and solid. It was a beautiful blade. "Knew you had it in you, Jes."

"Thanks. It just took focus, and I finally figured out how to find that." I got up from the table. Joelle was pushing her bike across the yard to the shed. "Something tells me it has to do with that beautiful girl who just got home." "Yeah, I figured it was time to grow up. Not that I'm planning to be old and boring like you, but I think it's time to slow down on the partying and other stupid shit." I put my plate in the sink. "Is she still planning to move out?" "Yeah. It'll give her some of that independence she craves. She's renting Kathy Young's back house. It's close to Sherry's shop." "That's convenient." I pointed to the bowie knife. "Get that thing packed up good, so you can ship it off. It'll be a nice piece for the guy's collection." I headed out the back door. It had been a week since Joelle's creepy ex had shown up at the house. It turned out the police were looking for them for robbing a liquor store on their way to Tanglewood. Bobby would be going away for a long time. It seemed Joelle finally felt truly free of the jerk. At the same time, the complicated relationship the three of us started had come to a smooth end. Joelle had picked Jesse, and while there was plenty of pain in that conclusion, it was the right ending for the story. I headed into the shop to straighten things up and get ready for my next order. I heard the patter of Bear's paws and Joelle's footsteps behind me. She walked over to the stool at Jesse's work table and sat down. I picked up the broom. "Hey, Slick, how was work?" "Good. Sherry was kind of distracted all morning, which made me nervous because I thought she was going to make some dire prediction. But she seemed to be better after lunch. What's your next project?" "A dagger, believe it or not. I'm not sure if the guy just wants it to be cool or if he's planning to use it for self defense. Not my place to ask. I just make it. Looking forward to it though. I haven't made a dagger in awhile." I stopped sweeping and leaned on the broom. "Joelle, you don't have to move out. I mean, I hope you're not

leaving because of me." "No, not at all. I just need to experience what it's like to be on my own. Even though, I'm sort of cheating because I have you and Jesse close by. But I need this." "I understand. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't me." Bear's head popped up with interest as Jesse stepped into the shop. He had a stunned look on his face. "Uh, Zach, I think you should come outside. There's something you need to see." "Can it wait until I'm done cleaning up?" Jesse shook his head. "Nope, it can't wait." I looked at Joelle, who shrugged in confusion. I lifted a brow at Jesse as I walked past him. "This better be worth it," I muttered as I reached the open door of the shop. I stepped outside. I glanced up toward the trees, assuming some wild creature had wandered into the yard. But then a sound behind me, made me turn back toward the house. I had to wait for my breath to return before I could speak. "Sage." "Hey, Zach." Sage had her hands pushed into her jeans, and she shyly lifted her shoulders. It had been four years, but everything about her was as familiar as if I'd just had her in my arms seconds ago. I'd been so focused on Sage, so stunned at seeing her, I hadn't noticed the movement behind her. A tiny hand gripped the side of her leg and then small feet shuffled around her. A boy, not more than three or four, stepped into view. My mind dashed back to the photo album Joelle had carried up from the cellar. I was looking at the same blueeyed, blond haired kid from the picture. But that couldn't be. There was no fucking way. Sage gazed back at me with green eyes, those green eyes that I'd thought about every day since she left. Every bit of hurt and regret I'd felt after losing her resurfaced. I couldn't ignore the obvious anymore. I looked down at the little boy, who was hugging a stuffed dinosaur with one arm as the other remained wrapped around Sage's leg. "Zach, this is John James." It felt as if she'd lobbed a cannon ball at me with her words. I, once again, tried to remember how to breathe. Only this time, when I sucked in air, a lot of anger and disbelief came with it. I looked at her. "You had a baby, my baby?" I heard the words as they left my mouth, but I was having a hard fucking time believing they were real. "I didn't know I was pregnant until after I left," she spoke quickly. Apparently she was going to try and explain the whole fucking thing in seconds, but it was going to take a lot longer than that. I stood there feeling as if someone had drained all the blood from my body. My stomach knotted with anger and disbelief. I fished the keys from my pocket and

marched past her. I climbed into my truck and tore out of the driveway without looking back. I couldn't look back.

31 ZACH

another stone into Deadman's Gulch and watched it sink below the I tossed frothy surface. I wished I'd brought my bike along. A fast, hard ride down

would have helped. Wrapping my head around Sage coming back was nothing compared to wrapping my head around the surprise she’d brought with her. None of it was making sense to me. I'd walked off like an asshole, but I needed time to absorb everything. Hell, I just needed to catch my fucking breath. "Thought I'd find you here," Jesse's voice crawled up the hill and through the trees. It was probably the first time we were both standing on the trail instead of racing down it on our bikes. I sat on one of the trees along the trail that had fallen years ago and had been relieved of its bark and sap. It was so smooth and brittle from weathering, even the insects and forest animals had abandoned it. Jesse leaned his hand up against a tree and stared down in the gulch. "Shit, I guess I've never really taken a good long look at those rocks. That would fucking hurt." I picked up another stone and tossed it into the rocky ravine. "If you were lucky, you'd die before the real pain started." My brother looked over at me. "Maybe you'll have to slow down on daring bike races now that you're a dad." I shook my head. "Fuck. What the hell was she thinking?" "I think you're going to have to ask her that." Jesse joined me on the tree. "You know, for the longest time, I used to ask that question about Mom. What the hell was she thinking walking away from us, from Dad? I knew she hated it here, but how the heck did she just walk away from her family? After Sage left you for a life away from Tanglewood, I remember thinking the same thing. How the hell did she just leave Zach behind? She left just like Mom. But then I started peeling away the lies I used to tell myself to feel better about Mom leaving. She never loved Dad. She was here, living the life of a wife and mother, but it was all an act. She left with hardly a glance back, other than those stupid, annoying phone calls we both try and ignore." He stretched his legs out and leaned back on his hands. "But you know

what? The thing with you and Sage—that was different. She loved you, just like you loved her. She was ready to try more of the world and you were bound here. Whether that was a good thing or not, you stuck it out here because of Dad, because of the Coltrane name." I looked over at him. "You been rehearsing that long?" He bobbed his head side to side. "Nah, just on the way over here." He got up. "I've got everyone in the car." I peered up at him. "And now Joelle and I are going to take my nephew, John James, out for ice cream and you're going to stay here and let Sage tell you whatever the heck she came here to tell you. But I'm just going to warn you that I'm already getting pretty damn fond of saying the phrase my nephew." I got up and followed him down the hill. My stomp off and pout session had been brought to an abrupt end by none other than the younger brother, who I'd been telling to grow up all these years. Guess I'd finally gotten through to him. Smug ass that he was. I stopped high enough on the trail that I could see down to the car. Joelle was in the front seat, and I could see Sage in the backseat. John James was too little to spot inside the car. John James. She'd named him after our great grandfather. I was in the middle of wondering why Sage had made that decision when she stepped out of the car and stopped my thoughts and, once again, my breath. It had been nearly four years since I last talked to her, since I last held her, since I last kissed her. I'd assured myself that it was over, that I'd pushed her from my mind for good. Then Joelle handed me that damn prom picture, and I knew I'd just been lying to myself. Sage was never completely gone. Our connection had been too tight. Even more than I'd realized. Fuck, now that was a royal understatement. Sage tucked her short black hair behind her ears as she strolled toward me. Her bright green eyes sparkled out from creamy, flawless skin. I could never get enough of her silky skin. There was a place on the back of her shoulder that I loved to kiss, whenever I had the chance. I used to complain that I hated winter and the sweaters she wore because I could never get to that spot. Sage stopped just a foot away, closer than we'd stood in four years. I almost wanted to reach out and touch her just to make sure she was real. Below, Jesse's car sputtered as he pulled away. "Jonny is already nuts about his uncle. And Joelle. Wow. I never thought Jesse would find someone to tame his heart." She paused. "And from what I've heard, she stole a bit of yours too." My eyes widened. Then it all fell into place. "Sherry, of course. Have you two been talking all these years?" Sage shook her head. "No. When I left Tanglewood, I knew it would be easier if I had a clean break. It was the only way I could try and start a life without you. Sherry found my mom's email address and wrote her. Then she called me." "Why?"

"Zach, if it's easier that I leave, I'll take John James back home. I live just a few hours north. We've got a crummy little apartment, but I have a job and a few friends." She shrugged. "Turns out the rest of the world doesn't have any greener grass than Tanglewood." I crossed my arms for no other reason except I couldn't decide whether to grab her and hug her or shake her good and hard. "Why didn't you tell me? Fucking hell, Sage, why didn't you tell me?" Her eyes filled with tears. "Because you didn't follow me. I was sure you would." A short, sad laugh followed. "For some damn reason, I'd convinced myself that I was more important to you than this town. And then when I found out I was pregnant, I thought if I told you, you'd feel obligated. I didn't want that. I didn't want you to feel obligated to follow me. I just wanted you to follow me because you loved—" I reached for her and pulled her into my arms. "How could you ever have questioned it? You know I've loved you since—I can't even fucking remember a time when I didn't love you, Sage." I covered her mouth with mine.

32 JOELLE

Three months later was helping put the final rhinestone pins in Sage's hair. SI herry looked past the two of them into the mirror at the bride's reflection. "Sage, you

look stunning. Zach is going to have a hard time remembering his vows." "Thanks, Joelle." Sage lifted her hand. "Look, some of the shaking has stopped. Maybe I won't fall completely apart after all. Joelle, can you go out and check to make sure that Zach got Jonny dressed? I kept having nightmares last night that the two of them showed up to the wedding in ripped jeans and dirty t-shirts." I laughed. "I'll go check right now." I walked through the kitchen and stopped to make sure the pies I’d baked were out of Bear's reach. The dog was busy with a beef bone. He was going to be confined to the house for a few hours, so Jesse decided Bear needed something to occupy his time. It was a perfect summer night on the mountainside. Jesse and Zach had strung lights around the entire yard. Even the shop and some of the pine trees on the hills were decorated. I stepped outside, but not too far from the house. Most of the town had arrived to watch the first Coltrane brother get married. John James Coltrane, great-great grandson of the town's founder, had become in instant celebrity. And Jonny was eating it up. Zach walked up to the steps with his son on his shoulders. Their bond had been instant, and they were adorable together. I laughed. "With both of you wearing the same suits and ties, Jonny looks like a mini version of his dad." Zach looked down at the flouncy pink summer dress Sage had chosen for the bridesmaids. "And you look like pink candy floss. Beautiful." I held out the edges of the dress. "I think we made the right choice. But the bride will definitely be the show stealer." Zach took a whiff of the fragrance coming through the kitchen. "Those pies smell good. What kind are they?"

"Lemon chiffon. I've been wanting to bake them for a long time." I held back my smile. "Where's Jesse? I haven't seen him in his suit yet." "Last I saw, he and Sundance were in the shop sneaking a beer." I kissed Zach's cheek. He stooped down so I could give Jonny a kiss too. "I'll go make sure they are staying out of trouble." I headed across the yard to the shop and stepped inside. Jesse looked up. My heart always skipped a beat when I saw the man, but he looked positively swoon worthy dressed in a suit and tie. "Whooee," Sundance howled, "look at that beauty in the pink dress." He tilted sideways to get a look at my legs and howled again. "Best damn pair of legs in Tanglewood." The comment earned him a knuckle in the shoulder from Jesse. "Only I get to check out her legs like that." Jesse mimicked him with the same tilt of the head. "Yep, Sundance is right. Best legs in town." Sundance shot back his beer. "Well, I need to go find Roxie, or I'll be getting an earful for leaving her alone too long." Sundance winked as he walked past me. I strolled over to where Jesse was standing. He shook his head at the dress. "That dress is giving me a whole lot of dirty ideas." I pressed up against him. "Well, hold those ideas until later. But I have to warn you, you might just have to wear this suit while you're acting out those dirty ideas because my heart is melting like butter looking at you." His arms swept around me. "Is that right? I might be able to arrange that." He kissed me. "Not sure if I've mentioned this enough, Joelle, but I'm so fucking glad you decided to steal my coat." "Me too." I pushed my mouth up against his for a kiss.

1 KENNA

J

eremy gripped the headboard to keep it from smacking the wall. “Sorry, baby,” he grunted as his body stiffened and he came. He dropped onto the bed next to me. I sat up, plucked his shirt off the end of the bed and pulled it on. “I said I’m sorry, Kenna.” His voice reminded me of a petulant little boy trying to apologize for purposely tripping a girl in the hallway. I buttoned the shirt halfway. It was one of his good ones, the kind that only the best dry cleaners could handle properly. “Don’t worry, it’s me, not you.” His angry laugh followed. “Shit, that’s a classic. It’s me, not you,” he mimicked. I clamped my teeth together at the sound of it. I couldn’t remember exactly when it had happened, when sex with Jeremy had become like eating dry crackers on a hot day with no water to chase the salty crumbs down. But I couldn’t seem to find my way back to loving him. And Jeremy knew it. He wasn’t ready to give up on us yet, but I’d surrendered months ago. I walked over to the desk that I’d set up in the corner of the bedroom. Jeremy had insisted we rent an expensive apartment in the city. With him being newly hired at a law firm and me still plodding through law school, it was more than we could afford, but he’d wanted to impress his friends. He’d arranged himself a posh office in the spare bedroom and had allowed me to carve out my own cramped workspace in the corner of our bedroom. I stared down at the stack of law books, the printed and bound monsters that haunted my daydreams and nightmares. It seemed I was doing more studying than breathing these days. Overwhelmed was a light, teasing word for how I was feeling about it all. Especially because when I wasn’t poring over textbooks and lecture notes, I was asking myself why the heck I was going into law. As noble and intellectual as the profession had first seemed, it was slowly disintegrating into a blur of paperwork, legal terms and precedents. The weight of it all had been plaguing me with anxiety and panic attacks. More than once, in the past month, I’d had to rush from a lecture hall because it seemed that the walls were squeezing in

on me, keeping me from taking a decent breath. I reached up and fingered the shell necklace that I’d dangled from the corner of my monitor. It was a reminder of the past, one of the few tokens I’d taken with me when I left Mayfair for college. I’d been living an entire country away, on the east coast, in a big city, for six years, but my small, quiet suburban hometown called out to me every once in awhile. Even more so lately. Behind me, the bed creaked. I heard Jeremy pulling on his pants. He walked over and leaned down to kiss the top of my head. “Guess you’re thinking about Harrison’s test on Monday. Just relax, take deep breaths and you’ll do fine. I’m sure that’s why you’re having such a hard time—tough time reaching orgasm. You’ll see, once finals are over, you’ll feel your old self, and everything will be back to normal.” There he was, trying again. If only he were right, but the hard knot in the pit of my stomach assured me he wasn’t. My gaze fell on the necklace again. “Actually, I wasn’t thinking about the test at all.” Jeremy swung around and braced his hands on the edge of my desk as he sat against it. “So, what are you thinking about?” The necklace had tossed me back in time, headlong into the memories of those carefree days in Mayfair. It made me smile. “When I was nine, I wrote down an entire life’s plan.” I chuckled, thinking about it. “I called it Kenna’s Life Plan. Original, I know. I was going to be a marine biologist, and on my wedding day, the groom and I were going to arrive at the ceremony riding a pair of dolphins. And I was going to wear a pink bathing suit and a wreath of shells in my hair. After the ceremony, we were going to eat my mom’s macaroni and cheese and blueberry cobbler. Then, naturally, we were going to live happily ever after.” “Sounds like a good, detailed plan. Did you already know who your husband would be?” I could see another smile reflecting back at me in the computer monitor, but this one was sad. “Yes, I knew exactly who it would be.” Jeremy waited, but I said nothing more. I stood and walked past him to the bathroom. “We need to leave in an hour. We’re going to breakfast at Juniper’s with my new boss and her husband,” he reminded me. “Ugh.” I turned on the sink water. Jeremy popped his head into the bathroom. “Did you say something?” “I said ugh. Your new boss is an ugh, and the food at Juniper’s is so ostentatious it’s almost comical. I mean, who the hell wants caviar on their freaking blintzes? Or blood sausage deep fried in Belgian waffle batter.” I squeezed the toothpaste onto my brush. “That’s a triple bypass in the making if there ever was one. Their whole damn, pretentious menu should just list the disease that comes with the meal. Diabetes will cost you fifty dollars. And if you want a nice case of atherosclerosis with that, then add fifteen bucks.” I shoved the toothbrush into my mouth,

deciding it was probably time to silence my rant. Jeremy circled behind me. I should have seen anger and frustration in his face, but instead, I saw hurt. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed his chest against my back. “I know these meals are dull and hard to sit through, but I need you by my side. You’re beautiful and charming and smart, and everyone is more impressed with me when I have you on my arm.” I spit into the sink. “So, what you’re saying is, I’m your Rolex watch.” He dropped his arm with an audible sigh. “Some mornings there is just no getting through that tough shell of yours, Kenna.” It seemed he was going to give up on his quest to sweet talk me, but then he stopped and turned back to me. “I don’t mind a beach wedding or macaroni and cheese.” He reached up to my hair and brushed it behind my ear. “And this gold hair would look amazing with a shell wreath. Once you graduate and take the bar exam, we can move on with our lives and start planning that dream wedding.” Guilt was replacing my earlier irritation. Jeremy was trying again, and it seemed the more he tried, the farther he pushed me away. I looked out toward my cluttered desk, nearly lopsided from the stack of books on it. “I don’t know if I want to finish law school. I’m starting to regret the whole thing.” I pulled my eyes from the books and looked at him. For the first time, there was a flicker of something that wasn’t just the pain of a failing relationship. It was disappointment. “What do you mean? You’ve only got two trimesters left, and I’ve already got you an interview lined up at the firm. You’ll be great.” He laughed dryly. “Probably be passing me up on the way to the top.” “That’s just it, Jeremy. I’m not interested in the top. I’m not even sure I’m interested in law.” His next comment was stopped by my phone ringing. It was the bell save I’d needed. I’d blurted out my doubts about law school without much warning, and Jeremy was obviously going to need some time to absorb it. I slipped past him to the desk. It was my mom, which meant a long conversation. Even better. I looked toward the bathroom and caught Jeremy’s eye roll as I spoke. “Hey, Mom.” “Kenny, baby, how are you? You didn’t call me last week, so I took a chance that I’d catch you not hunched over your textbooks. Are you free to gab for a second?” “Sure, Mom, I’ve got time.” I startled as Jeremy snapped the bathroom door shut harshly. The shower turned on. “Oliver finally helped me put up an online store for my candy. And he did a beautiful job, of course.” My oldest brother, Oliver, had been born a tech genius, or at least that’s what my parents liked to say. Oliver was seven years older than me, and Peter was just a year under him. The big age gap had always made me just a ‘little turd’ to my big brothers, a pesky little sister who rarely got any attention

from her big brothers. But when they did take the time, even if it was a teasing noogie on my head, I was thrilled. They’d both gone off to college and then jobs and marriages, while I was still just a teenager. I was now engaged, a college grad and in law school, but whenever I saw them on holidays, I was still ‘little turd’. “How’s the store going, Mom? Are you keeping up with orders?” She produced one of her exasperated Mom huffs. “No, I’m not. Making the candy and packaging it and keeping up with the online stuff, of which, as you know, I’m not an expert, is going to put me in an early grave. That’s all. So, your mom is heading for the grave. But enough about my chaotic life. I did it to myself, so I can’t complain.” “Except that’s what you’re doing.” Three years after I’d left for college, my dad had developed severe back problems, mostly due to the heavy lifting he’d done working in construction. He’d ended up having to quit work, and suddenly, my parents were struggling, financially. We’d never been flowing in money, but we’d had everything the neighbors had, a small pool, air conditioning, a must have in California, and enough extra for a yearly week long vacation at a nearby lake. But after putting all of us through college, my middle-aged parents had suddenly found themselves cutting huge corners and missing bill payments. My mom’s candy had always been famous in town. Neighbors paid her to make them some of her delicious treats for holiday gifts. The online store had been my idea. “Mom, why don’t you hire someone to help?” Another exasperated sound effect. “I tried that. Remember Eleanor, your friend from school?” “We weren’t friends, Mom. She was totally weird. She chewed the erasers off all her pencils and spit the pieces on the classroom floor.” “Oh—well, I thought you two were friends. I hired her younger sister, Nina, to help. I ran into Esther, her mom, at the grocery store, and she was lamenting about how smart and wonderful Nina was but that she couldn’t find a job. So, I decided to do the neighborly thing and hire her. Big mistake. There was a reason she couldn’t get a job. No common sense. And, on top of that, she was nibbling too many pieces of candy. She’d be assembling a box of six truffles and eat two in the process. All my profit was going down her gullet.” Mom’s phone beeped, letting her know she had a call coming through. “Now who could that be?” she asked herself unnecessarily. “Everyone only ever calls when I’m on the phone.” I heard the shower shut off. I was going to have to drag myself in and get ready to continue my morning with a pretend smile plastered on my face as I listened to Jeremy’s annoying boss brag on about her new Mercedes and diamond watch. I wasn’t up for any of it. “I should go anyhow, Mom.” “Wait,” she said, “I have just a few more things to tell you.” The phone beeped again. “Let me just see who it is.” Before I could tell her I’d call her later, she zipped away to answer the call waiting.

Jeremy poked his wet head out of the bathroom and scowled at me as I pointed at my phone with a shrug. “We need to get going,” he reminded me and shut the door again. I was just about to hang up and make the excuse later that I was cut off, but Mom came back on. I heard a distinct sniffle. “Mom? Everything all right?” My heart sped up, and my mind went instantly to my brothers. “Are the boys O.K.?” “Yes, yes, Kenna.” She sniffed again. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. Your brothers are fine.” Her voice was shaky. “I’ve just heard some terrible news, Kenny.” She paused. “Grady Stratton died in a car accident yesterday.” I sat down hard on the desk chair as if someone had kicked my knees out from under me. My first thought was that it was impossible. I’d talked to him just three weeks ago for our usual first Monday of the month phone call. I’d spent the whole conversation whining about how I wasn’t sure about going into law anymore. “Holy shit.” My own sniffles followed right in tune with hers. So many memories and visions went through my head. Growing up, I’d had a lot of friends, but only one true best friend, and that had been Grady Stratton. I swallowed hard to relieve the lump that had grown in my throat. “Where was he? What happened?” “Apparently he was on his way here to Mayfair for a visit. I know you mentioned to me that he’d gotten a nice job at an energy company in Wisconsin.” She sniffled again. “So tragic.” We’d moved in across the street from the Strattons when I was five. Grady was the same age, and we became instant friends. I was too young at the time to understand the confusing Stratton family circumstances, but while Grady lived across the street with his natural mom and dad, his older half-brother, Caden, lived just a few blocks away with his own mom, the ex-Mrs. Stratton, an older stepbrother named Jack and Walt, his stepdad. After the divorce, Caden’s mom remarried, and they decided to buy a house just up the street from Caden’s dad. They had thought it would be a way to keep Caden close to the other half of his family. But watching him grow up, always looking lost and without an anchor, never really belonging anywhere, it seemed it had been a bad decision. “I don’t know the details yet. That was Suzy from next door calling to tell me.” Mom’s thin, reedy tone pulled me from my thoughts. “She’d just heard the news.” “Mom, please let me know the second you hear anything. I’m almost done with the trimester. I’ll fly home for the funeral.” One moment we were talking about her candy store, and suddenly, we were talking about the funeral for a young, brilliant guy who had been one of the most admired people in town. Once Grady and I had gone our separate ways for college, our paths had rarely crossed. But we’d always kept up by phone, text or email. I’d always looked forward to my first Monday of the month phone calls with him. We used the time to catch up on each other’s lives and we, of course, always made promises to get together. But we were both always too busy to make it happen. The few rare times we’d both ended up in Mayfair at

the same time, we’d fallen back into our friendship as if we’d never parted. He had always been my best friend, even when he was miles away. Grady was the kind of guy who could lift you out of a dark mood and make you forget the thing that had put you there. He was that kind of person. The bathroom door opened, and warm soapy steam drifted out. Jeremy had a clean-shaven face and a towel wrapped around his hips. He noticed my tears and came up next to me. His aftershave stung my watery eyes. Mom’s phone beeped again. Mayfair was a small, close-knit town. This would be terrible, devastating news for everyone. I was sure she’d be on the phone all day commiserating with friends. “I’ll call you later, Mom. See you soon.” I peered up at Jeremy through the tears that had pooled in my eyes. “I’ve got to fly home.” Jeremy’s dark brows knitted together. “But you are home.” “No, I mean home to Mayfair.” I swallowed to make the next words easier to my own ears. “My best friend, Grady, died in a car accident. I need to be there.” “I’m so sorry, Kenna. I know you’ve mentioned him many times. Sounded like a great guy.” Jeremy put a comforting hand on my shoulder, but I felt little genuine sympathy. Empathy had never been his strong-suit. He knew a trip would only put more space between us. “How long will you be there? When will you be back?” The questions came out sounding fast and anxious. “I don’t know.” I looked at the stack of books on the desk and ran my fingers along the spines. Then my bleary gaze drifted to the shells. I kept my focus on the necklace and thought about that day. It had been my twelfth birthday. Grady had strung the shells himself, and his mouth was nearly exploding from trying to hide his smile as he handed it to me. He’d bragged that he’d collected the shells himself. Only Caden had burst that bubble by noting that Grady had actually bought the shells at a craft store. Then my mind went to him, to Caden. Growing up, there had always been one person in Caden’s life he could count on to keep him feeling as if he belonged and that was Grady. Caden would feel his loss like no one else.

2 CADEN

the phone call go to voicemail. It was just too damn early in the morning I let for a Mom interrogation session, and since my prospects for what she

considered a respectable future were no closer than the last time we spoke, I figured I’d made the right decision to ignore the call. “How were the waves?” Mindy asked as she came out of the bedroom. “Flat. Should have stayed in bed where things were anything but flat.” I leaned against the kitchen counter and watched, with keen interest, as Mindy sashayed into the kitchen wearing only her watch and diamond stud earrings. She pressed her hand against her stomach. “I’m starved.” She went straight to the refrigerator and opened it. “Do you have anything but beer in here?” She held the door open and stared inside. I took my time gazing at her very bitable ass as she shifted from bare foot to bare foot on the cold tile floor. “How about some yogurt?” “Yogurt? Yeah, right. I think it’s on the bottom shelf behind the six packs.” She leaned down lower, jutting her perfectly sculpted, bathing suit model ass up higher, causing my cock to push higher along with it. “I think you have to lean down lower because it’s way in the back.” I was a damn fiend, but I was having a good time with it. Mindy was leaning so far into the refrigerator, I could see every inch of her. I couldn’t hold back a groan. She straightened with a gasp. Her long, brown hair swept around as she spun toward me trying to look shocked and angry. “You pervert.” I held out my arms. “Guilty as charged. You didn’t actually think I’d have yogurt in my fridge?” “Real men eat yogurt . . . sometimes.” “Probably. But not this real man.” She exaggerated the sway of her hips as she walked toward me and pressed her naked body against mine. “You are a scoundrel. Of course, as you know, I only hang around you because you are so fucking good in bed.” She kissed me. My cock

pressed against the fly of my still damp board shorts. “When do you leave for the photo shoot?” I ran my palm over her naked back and stopped on her ass. “I’ve got to be at the airport by noon.” She ran her fingers along my chest. “I don’t know why you decided to come here instead of flying to Paris with me. We could have a lot of fun.” Mindy and I had dated seriously for a few months, after my years in the army and just before my budding career in MotoGP came to a crashing, bone-busting end. She’d moved on with her modeling career and other men, while I recuperated from a gnarly broken femur. Her last boyfriend had proved such an asshole, she’d come back to me, hoping for a friends with benefits type of relationship. I was all for it. Neither of us had ever been good at the tied down to one person thing. The new arrangement was working out just fine. Now we met up whenever we had time just to hang out and fuck. Mostly fuck. “I have no doubt that you and I would have a blast in Paris, but the California coast was calling to me, and my surfboard was getting bored. Besides, later this week, I’m heading up to Mayfair to meet up with Grady. He’s driving down from Wisconsin. Haven’t seen him in six months. After we put in our required time with the parents, we’re going to head back here for some serious surfing, beer drinking and bikini watching. Then I’ve got to get serious about finding work and a permanent place to stay. I’ve almost blown through the money I earned racing.” “Ooh, a permanent place to stay— that sounds so unlike you. I guess it’s good I’m leaving. I don’t want to get in the way of your ‘boys of summer’ fun.” She squirmed out of my arms and headed for the coffee pot. “Now, Grady is your stepbrother, right?” “No, that’s Jack. Jack is Walt’s son. Grady is my half-brother.” “Right. You share a dad, and you grew up on the same block, but not in the same house.” She laughed and put her coffee on the counter before once again pressing herself into my arms. “No wonder you’re such a basket case.” “Yep, I’ve got plenty of shit to unload on a shrink if I ever feel the need to see one.” My phone buzzed on the counter behind me. I glanced back at the text. It was from my mom telling me to call her. I turned back to Mindy, kissed her and gave her a quick spank. “I’ve got to call my mom. Apparently she’s anxious to give me her opinion on something . . . again. In the meantime, why don’t you climb back in bed and wait for me.” Mindy brushed the hair off my forehead. “Nope, I’m going to get dressed and get something to eat.” She left my grasp and headed to the bedroom. I put off the inevitable conversation with my mom and followed the naked beauty to the bedroom, hoping I could coax her into a quickie. Mindy grabbed her panties and shorts off the floor and pulled them on. “What the hell am I supposed to do with my morning with you out eating breakfast? Now I wish I’d had that damn yogurt.” I walked toward her. My hands

went to the button she’d just fastened on her shorts. She pushed my hands away and kissed me. “I’ve got to get going anyhow. I need to buy a few things before I get on the plane.” She pulled on her bra and shirt. “I left the name of the Paris hotel on my business card in case you get horny enough to jump on a plane and come see me. The photo shoot will take a few weeks. Then I’ll probably bum around Europe for awhile. Could be really fun.” I nodded. “I might visit.” She laughed. “Right. I figure you are going to pick up that phone and start calling numbers to fill my side of the bed the second I walk out of here.” She swung her purse onto her shoulder. I followed her out of the bedroom. “Now would I do that, Min?” She smiled back at me as she reached the front door. “Yes, you would. And, Cade —” “Yeah?” “Try and stay out of trouble.” “Where’s the fun in that?” She shook her head, blew me a kiss and walked out the door. I walked to the kitchen and picked up my phone just as it rang. It seemed my mom was on some kind of a mission this morning. “Hey, Mom, I was just going to call—” “Caden.” Her voice sounded distant, not at all her usual tone. “Caden, I’m afraid I have some terrible news.” She sucked in a sniffle. “Oh, Cade,” she sobbed, “Grady was in a bad accident.” “What?” I found myself gripping the counter and didn’t remember wrapping my fingers around it. “What happened? Where is he?” “He’s gone.” “What do you mean? Mom, where the fuck is Grady?” “I’m sorry, baby.” I hadn’t heard my mom refer to me as baby since they’d rolled me out of the ambulance with a compound fracture. “Grady didn’t survive the crash.” The small front room of the beach rental was closing in on me. It felt as if someone had drained the place of oxygen. “That can’t be.” “Caden—” “That can’t fucking be. We were going to meet up in Mayfair this week. Mom, what the fuck? How the fuck?” I squeezed the phone hard as if I could crumble it in my hand and wipe away the conversation completely. My throat tied into a knot and a lead weight pressed on my chest, making it even harder to breathe. “I just talked to him two days ago.” “The police think he fell asleep at the wheel. His car hit the center divider before rolling across the highway and off the embankment.” I closed my eyes and swallowed back the bitterness that had crept into my throat. “Caden, you need to come home. Your dad needs you.”

I couldn’t remember the last time tears had burned my eyes. “Yeah. I’ll be home soon, Mom.” I hung up and stared down at the phone as I swept my thumb over my contacts. Grady’s last text stared back at me. “Hey, numb nuts, see you in a few days.” It was too fucking impossible. Nausea swept through me. I threw my phone at the wall. It broke into pieces and slid to the floor, but I couldn’t erase the conversation. The room spun like a tornado as I turned around to the sink and puked.

CONTINUE their story in Hard Edge ~ Now Available

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tess Oliver is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of sexy romances. She’s always working on new and exciting projects. You can stay up to date, and get a free book by visiting her website and subscribing to her newsletter. @Tess_Oliver tessoliverauthor www.tessoliver.com [email protected]